Wake up and smell the routine

Sometimes I think I am an anomaly. I have this need to be organized and I love, to some extent, routine in my life. Yet when I try to implement it on a regular basis I usually come out unsuccessful. Deep down I aspire to be the next Mrs. Brady with a dash of Martha Stewart. I work at being organized, love to cook, and I do like a clean house. Although I aspire to this sort of domestic greatness, I get distracted way to easily. I am someone always looking for adventure or knowledge. I can get lost learning about an ancient culture, deciding to learn a new language, or figuring out the best way to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. I know this is probably because I have been spoiled by the amount of adventures I have had in my life. The stories I have told my mother already make her cringe, and those were the ones that I felt were safe enough to tell her. For some reason those kinds of situations are in a way my comfort zone. I know who I am and I know what I am capable of when I am in wild places. Where I break down and feel like a failure is in the everyday life. I make to do lists that makes the Constitution look like a post it note. The truth is when things are strange and unfamiliar, the challenge makes me feel, well, like me. It's the ordinary life that I feel strangely inadequately made for. A friend of mine told me that it takes two weeks to make something routine. So that is my new goal. I am taking each domestic goddess activity and working hard at each for two weeks in an attempt to feel a little more like Mrs. Brady and a little less like Indiana Jones wannabe girlfriend.

My view across the road. I think I love Deep Cove the most on an eerie rainy day