So, my mom kicked me out of the house this morning. Nervy, since it’s, you know, my house. Half, anyway.

Apparently while I was in California Mom developed a morning routine. One that did not include my shuffling downstairs and irregular and unpredictable times, leaving a trail of manuscript pages, pens and pencils, computer cords, jump drives, and coffee cups. Nor does it include my growling while she chirps to herself, talks to the dogs, puts on her music and dances around while she putters and straightens up and generally is… chipper. I am not a person who appreciates chipper in the morning.

So this morning she’s like, you know where you get a lot of work done? “Starbucks. Why don’t you go work there this morning. Have a coffee on me.”

That’s where I am now (though I’ll have to come home to post this). MY Starbucks, by the way. The one closing in the indeterminate future. They’re getting my business until that happens.

Routines. I’ve been trying to get into one since coming back home. (Apparently it’s going to involve removing myself from the house for a couple of hours several times a week.) Last week I was pretty productive. Though I didn’t really stick to a fixed routine, I did better at knocking out my to do list. (I think a written list is key for me.) But I didn’t get to the gym, and that’s not so good. I was shocked that I didn’t gain any weight in SF. I love bread, so you know that was not going to be a good city for my diet. But I guess all the walking helped.

My family was always big on routine. You could set your clock by my dad’s schedule. Mom, too, likes things to happen in a predictable way. No one can figure out where I came from.

It isn’t that I’m flighty or disorganized. In fact, I’m an avowed control freak. Anyone who has traveled with me (sorry Candy and Shannon) has experienced this. I don’t leave the hotel without a plan and a map. But at home, in my own, organized environment, I’m not a routine kind of person. I guess it comes down to a routine being different from plan.

What about you guys? Are you an orderly, scheduled type of person, or do you like to fly by the seat of your pants? Or like me, a mix of both?