A routine is something that keeps you from being as awesome as you can be, because to be awesome you gotta know your awesome and how it works. For example, me repeating “awesome” three times in a row wasn’t. So know, I gotta know my synonyms. See? Simple example. Now you apply it to your daily life.
A routine is something that keeps you from being as awesome as you can be, because to be able to wear your best kind of awesome you gotta know your awesome. For example, me writing “awesome” three times in the last sentence wasn’t, so now I gotta explore my synonyms, but that’s just a very simple example of it.
She was a cleaner. It was a simple routine task. Go in. Clean up the mess left behind in their wake, and get out. Same as always. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time. The team before her didn’t do their job like they were supposed to: they left someone alive.
poop. routine is so hard but so easy
but i can’t get up at the same time/// or sleep at a good time ever
what is this for
i dont have that many routines because im always just trying to fit everything in the day
except school is a routine
kind of
school is more of a dreaded event though.
it was a daily routine by now. wake up, roll out of bed, stumble to the bathroom. brush your teeth, brush your hair, take your medications. medications, medications, those damn medications. the only thing stopping her from another tumble down the rabbit hole. but compared to her routine, the rabbit hole was starting to look inviting again.
Her routine was skewed, her circadian rhythms all out of whack. Set the alarm for 5:30; wake up at 3:45. Try to go to sleep at 10:30; toss and turn until midnight. Good lord, when was she going to get a decent night’s sleep?
You were my favourite routine
And one day I missed the deadline
And you walked me back to reality
I wasn’t ready
I wasn’t ready
I wasn’t, ready
But you were done
And somehow
I wasn’t
I would love to become a women of total routine where there is a time to do everything and everything is done in its correct time. Instead of making me boring and predictable this would liberate me to be able to spontaneously respond to this adventure called life. The minutiae and mundane would automatically be taken care off and I would be free to indulge in the magnificent.
the routine of the day is the things you do the people you see not always the same routine but routine helps think helps us structure makes sure we do and say the right things at the right time because god forbid we should make a cup of tea too early or eat our toast too late routines make the world go round or something like that
Get up. Go out. Walk about. Sit down. Feast on food. Get up. Walk about. Go in. Lie down. Sleep peacefully. Get up. Go out. Walk about. Sit down. Feast on food. Get up. Walk about. Go in. Lie down. Sleep peacefully. Get up. Go out. Walk about. Sit down. Feast on food. Get up. Walk about. Go in. Lie down. Sleep peacefully.
It was routine for the security team to check all the rooms on that floor, but they skipped room eight-sixteen, because the professor had been working late this whole week. Had they opened the door, they would have seen the professor’s “creation” crawl over his crushed and twisted body, and climb out of the window.
i have a different routine in weeks and oin weekends we all have dont we? but it changes depending on you being a dschoolperson or an adult with a job. i am a schoolperson, i wake at 6, and then go to school and am there at 8:10 it is not fun waking up early, but what else would i do?
my everyday routine was rather eventfully boring:
dress at 5 am, eat breakfast, out to the barnyards and fields to tend to things.
My farmer’s life was very repetitive, and I was happy to do what no one else wanted to,
growing foods and livestock, the things that need to be done. Little did I know how much my life would change in but a months.
Hands placed primly by her side as she watched the binmen clear the bins away from the road. Smoothing back her hair so she could place the plastic earrings her daughter had found charming in a pound shop, onto small lobes. A watch worn on a thin wrist, the face gleaming from the weak morning sun. Pink lipstick, a glamorous, sultry shade, not the candy sugar one that her daughter was fond of stealing. When she looked in the mirror, she saw herself again, not the woman she had become during the darkest hours of the night. What a relief that she could still do this, still pretend, when everything around her was so changed.
It was almost 8 o’clock. Time to get breakfast started.
They performed a routine perimeter check as they waited outside for something to happen: they know not what. A cryptic and anonymous call for action in troubled times and an address is all they were given. They have no idea if this could be a trap or a diversion, or if someone knew something that needed to be said and there was a just method to this madness.
What one does repeatedly. Day after day the same actions are taken in the exact same order. People who live on a routine schedule are usually type A personalities.
do it again. put the feet on the floor. shuffle to the can. piss. look in the mirror – not too long. cup some water in your hand, swallow. shuffle back to the room. sit on the edge of the bed, just for a minute…
Routine
is dapper. The bricks of living. The space
between
breaths.
Routine is the morning on your eyelids.
And the fatigue of night.
Routine is going and going and going and waiting to break
free.
Boom smash. Boom smash. Boom. crack.
A folly in the events. The cracking of something more than just routine.
A deviation of history.
A snowflake blown onto the wrong tongue.
A change unfixable, untreatable by the cosmos. Something less
Something more.
Something tremendous.
Anything remarkable was born out of routine.
Well my routine is pretty much boring. Work, go home, computer and videogames, sleep, repeat. Its quite hard to get out of that circle. But in 5 momnths I’ve got enough Dough to get out of here and see the world. Fuck yeah !
The alarm rings at 0500. She wakes up and goes to the bathroom, washing her face and brushes her teeth. She washes her hair, then blow dries it. She chooses her clothes with care, depending on her mood. She makes breakfast, and eat it. When she leaves the house, it is always 0836, not one minute early, not one minute later, so that she is just in time for the 0839 bus.
Today is no different. Every step is in place, just the way she likes it.
I already wrote about routine yesterday. Today is my 60th birthday. I don’t feel 60. Don’t really know how old I look. Hard for me to gauge anyone over 25. On a good day I feel 17 and on a bad day I feel 40. I don’t have too many bad days…
She woke up, brushed her teeth. 200 strokes total, no more, no less. She made sure to touch the doorknob with only her index and thumb finger and she made sure to wash her hands right after. She then made sure to go into the kitchen, 28 steps, in order to fix herself breakfast: scrambled eggs—but only the whites, and a cup of black coffee. This was her routine.
He’s got his routine back: sitting in front of his computer, playing video games, howling at the sun, making me happy, making me sad, making me wish that I could look back and see the old me, the person I didn’t know what was to come, or how to treat the people that would eventually treat me differently.
A routine day in the shop, was all I wanted. Just a normal unbothered day of customers, dusting antiques, and inventory. Until the crate arrived, until I opened it. The contents would change everything I knew. No more routine days in the shop.
He’d been doing the same thing week after week, day after day, and couldn’t help feel his very existence had been reduced to nothing more than simple routine. No spontaneity, fun or surprises were ever in store for him, for he lived stuck a mundane rut, the rut of life.
my weekly routine Sunday mornings is viewing the garden, perhaps writing a poetic description of it, and trolling the gardening blogs for garden inspiration. no deadlines, no responsibilities for the morning, just reading, writing, relaxing.
Routine is something that has shaped my life over the last few years. They ask me to live like I’ll die tomorrow and dream like I’ll live forever. Routine is an enemy disguised as a friend that has shackled me to society and its norms. It has taken away my personality.
Everyday is the same. I wake up, do my thing, and then go back to bed. It’s kinda really sad. There’s plenty that goes on in between but I don’t notice and I don’t care to remember. Everyday is the same, and when I come back to bed later that night, it starts all over again the next day.
A routine is something that keeps you from being as awesome as you can be, because to be awesome you gotta know your awesome and how it works. For example, me repeating “awesome” three times in a row wasn’t. So know, I gotta know my synonyms. See? Simple example. Now you apply it to your daily life.
By Federica Chacon URL on 10.26.2013
A routine is something that keeps you from being as awesome as you can be, because to be able to wear your best kind of awesome you gotta know your awesome. For example, me writing “awesome” three times in the last sentence wasn’t, so now I gotta explore my synonyms, but that’s just a very simple example of it.
By Federica C. URL on 10.26.2013
She was a cleaner. It was a simple routine task. Go in. Clean up the mess left behind in their wake, and get out. Same as always. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time. The team before her didn’t do their job like they were supposed to: they left someone alive.
By Mandy on 10.26.2013
He woke up eyes still squinted from the nights light slumber. Get to work, go to bed do it again, meticulous, monotonous, drudgery.
By WhoisRGL URL on 10.26.2013
what a boring routine I have
constant imagination
floating around
somewhere
I don’t even know
where exist
By sophie on 10.26.2013
poop. routine is so hard but so easy
but i can’t get up at the same time/// or sleep at a good time ever
what is this for
i dont have that many routines because im always just trying to fit everything in the day
except school is a routine
kind of
school is more of a dreaded event though.
By jasmine on 10.26.2013
a routine death
over and over we lost our mind
take last breath
again and again we gone with the wind
a routine birth
time after time we stand up
take first mirth
time and time again we drink from grace cup
By Eligia V. A. URL on 10.27.2013
it was a daily routine by now. wake up, roll out of bed, stumble to the bathroom. brush your teeth, brush your hair, take your medications. medications, medications, those damn medications. the only thing stopping her from another tumble down the rabbit hole. but compared to her routine, the rabbit hole was starting to look inviting again.
By firelight URL on 10.27.2013
Her routine was skewed, her circadian rhythms all out of whack. Set the alarm for 5:30; wake up at 3:45. Try to go to sleep at 10:30; toss and turn until midnight. Good lord, when was she going to get a decent night’s sleep?
By mrsmig URL on 10.27.2013
You were my favourite routine
And one day I missed the deadline
And you walked me back to reality
I wasn’t ready
I wasn’t ready
I wasn’t, ready
But you were done
And somehow
I wasn’t
By Sapphire URL on 10.27.2013
Ive never had a routine
That could fit a love
Like yours
And I’m sorry
I won’t go
Changing.
By Sapphire URL on 10.27.2013
I always fail to set my daily routine according to way I want but I always fail .
By Abhyudaya URL on 10.27.2013
I would love to become a women of total routine where there is a time to do everything and everything is done in its correct time. Instead of making me boring and predictable this would liberate me to be able to spontaneously respond to this adventure called life. The minutiae and mundane would automatically be taken care off and I would be free to indulge in the magnificent.
By Tracey URL on 10.27.2013
the routine of the day is the things you do the people you see not always the same routine but routine helps think helps us structure makes sure we do and say the right things at the right time because god forbid we should make a cup of tea too early or eat our toast too late routines make the world go round or something like that
By Natasha URL on 10.27.2013
Get up. Go out. Walk about. Sit down. Feast on food. Get up. Walk about. Go in. Lie down. Sleep peacefully. Get up. Go out. Walk about. Sit down. Feast on food. Get up. Walk about. Go in. Lie down. Sleep peacefully. Get up. Go out. Walk about. Sit down. Feast on food. Get up. Walk about. Go in. Lie down. Sleep peacefully.
By Andrew Davies URL on 10.27.2013
It was routine for the security team to check all the rooms on that floor, but they skipped room eight-sixteen, because the professor had been working late this whole week. Had they opened the door, they would have seen the professor’s “creation” crawl over his crushed and twisted body, and climb out of the window.
By tonykeyesjapan URL on 10.27.2013
i have a different routine in weeks and oin weekends we all have dont we? but it changes depending on you being a dschoolperson or an adult with a job. i am a schoolperson, i wake at 6, and then go to school and am there at 8:10 it is not fun waking up early, but what else would i do?
By hab on 10.27.2013
my everyday routine was rather eventfully boring:
dress at 5 am, eat breakfast, out to the barnyards and fields to tend to things.
My farmer’s life was very repetitive, and I was happy to do what no one else wanted to,
growing foods and livestock, the things that need to be done. Little did I know how much my life would change in but a months.
By FollowThrough on 10.27.2013
Hands placed primly by her side as she watched the binmen clear the bins away from the road. Smoothing back her hair so she could place the plastic earrings her daughter had found charming in a pound shop, onto small lobes. A watch worn on a thin wrist, the face gleaming from the weak morning sun. Pink lipstick, a glamorous, sultry shade, not the candy sugar one that her daughter was fond of stealing. When she looked in the mirror, she saw herself again, not the woman she had become during the darkest hours of the night. What a relief that she could still do this, still pretend, when everything around her was so changed.
It was almost 8 o’clock. Time to get breakfast started.
By joanwatsons URL on 10.27.2013
They performed a routine perimeter check as they waited outside for something to happen: they know not what. A cryptic and anonymous call for action in troubled times and an address is all they were given. They have no idea if this could be a trap or a diversion, or if someone knew something that needed to be said and there was a just method to this madness.
By Jess URL on 10.27.2013
What one does repeatedly. Day after day the same actions are taken in the exact same order. People who live on a routine schedule are usually type A personalities.
By Katie on 10.27.2013
do it again. put the feet on the floor. shuffle to the can. piss. look in the mirror – not too long. cup some water in your hand, swallow. shuffle back to the room. sit on the edge of the bed, just for a minute…
By Lee URL on 10.27.2013
Routine
is dapper. The bricks of living. The space
between
breaths.
Routine is the morning on your eyelids.
And the fatigue of night.
Routine is going and going and going and waiting to break
free.
By Conor on 10.27.2013
Boom smash. Boom smash. Boom. crack.
A folly in the events. The cracking of something more than just routine.
A deviation of history.
A snowflake blown onto the wrong tongue.
A change unfixable, untreatable by the cosmos. Something less
Something more.
Something tremendous.
Anything remarkable was born out of routine.
By Conor on 10.27.2013
Well my routine is pretty much boring. Work, go home, computer and videogames, sleep, repeat. Its quite hard to get out of that circle. But in 5 momnths I’ve got enough Dough to get out of here and see the world. Fuck yeah !
By Mrlastname on 10.27.2013
The alarm rings at 0500. She wakes up and goes to the bathroom, washing her face and brushes her teeth. She washes her hair, then blow dries it. She chooses her clothes with care, depending on her mood. She makes breakfast, and eat it. When she leaves the house, it is always 0836, not one minute early, not one minute later, so that she is just in time for the 0839 bus.
Today is no different. Every step is in place, just the way she likes it.
By Munchkin URL on 10.27.2013
She was so bored. Everyday the same. Nothing special ever happens. It was always the same old routine. Get a life!
By Alexandra URL on 10.27.2013
I already wrote about routine yesterday. Today is my 60th birthday. I don’t feel 60. Don’t really know how old I look. Hard for me to gauge anyone over 25. On a good day I feel 17 and on a bad day I feel 40. I don’t have too many bad days…
By just a girl URL on 10.27.2013
She woke up, brushed her teeth. 200 strokes total, no more, no less. She made sure to touch the doorknob with only her index and thumb finger and she made sure to wash her hands right after. She then made sure to go into the kitchen, 28 steps, in order to fix herself breakfast: scrambled eggs—but only the whites, and a cup of black coffee. This was her routine.
By affront URL on 10.27.2013
He’s got his routine back: sitting in front of his computer, playing video games, howling at the sun, making me happy, making me sad, making me wish that I could look back and see the old me, the person I didn’t know what was to come, or how to treat the people that would eventually treat me differently.
By Kayla Pongrac URL on 10.27.2013
Get up. Get dressed. Survive whatever the day may throw at me.
This is my routine. Mundane and boring, everlasting until the day I die.
Unless of course life gives me a twist in the road.
By Zoey URL on 10.27.2013
A routine day in the shop, was all I wanted. Just a normal unbothered day of customers, dusting antiques, and inventory. Until the crate arrived, until I opened it. The contents would change everything I knew. No more routine days in the shop.
By EliseV URL on 10.27.2013
He’d been doing the same thing week after week, day after day, and couldn’t help feel his very existence had been reduced to nothing more than simple routine. No spontaneity, fun or surprises were ever in store for him, for he lived stuck a mundane rut, the rut of life.
By Dav Matthews URL on 10.27.2013
my weekly routine Sunday mornings is viewing the garden, perhaps writing a poetic description of it, and trolling the gardening blogs for garden inspiration. no deadlines, no responsibilities for the morning, just reading, writing, relaxing.
By Maria on 10.27.2013
Routine is something that has shaped my life over the last few years. They ask me to live like I’ll die tomorrow and dream like I’ll live forever. Routine is an enemy disguised as a friend that has shackled me to society and its norms. It has taken away my personality.
By Shiks on 10.27.2013
i woke up in the middle of tomorrow
another half a day farther
from where we were
By h. b. URL on 10.27.2013
Everyday is the same. I wake up, do my thing, and then go back to bed. It’s kinda really sad. There’s plenty that goes on in between but I don’t notice and I don’t care to remember. Everyday is the same, and when I come back to bed later that night, it starts all over again the next day.
By Leah URL on 10.27.2013