Well. . . maybe that title is a little misleading. Perhaps I should rephrase. After all, it's not that I lack structure in my life right now. It's more that I have a structure going and don't particularly like it.
Ever since September began, this is my typical daily routine (food-wise), a frustrating loop that I seemingly don't know how to break out of:
9:00 a.m. or so: Wake up, guzzle coffee to increase alertness, then feel way too sick to consider a real breakfast, other than maybe (maybe) an apple or banana while getting dressed. Hurry out the door in an absentminded state and forget to pack lunch, or just decide I'll cross the whole lunch bridge when I come to it. (I do, however, carry yet another cup of coffee out to my car with me. Sometimes I spill it on myself and have to rush back in and change my clothes.)
Sometime between 2:00 and 4:00 p.m.: Feel famished, almost always to the point of fatigue, after a few hours of running on pure adrenaline. Stop somewhere and grab a lunch, probably something greasy and indulgent as hell, because said fatigue has drastically impaired my judgment and ability to care. Wolf it down in the car, sometimes while sitting in a deserted parking lot. Whoa. . . talk about an ultra-sophisticated setting! (To my credit, this might be an improvement over waiting until dinner hour for lunch, as I sometimes used to do.)
Somewhere between 9:00 and 11:00 p.m.: Force myself to eat something for dinner. At least, I guess that's what you could call it. For me, "dinner" lately consists of something easy and quintessentially breakfast-ish, such as cereal or a piece of lightly-charred toast. I could cook something more elegant than that, but when it's nearly midnight, that doesn't sound worth it. Besides, I tend not to be ravenous at that point. Really, when I think about it, the only time of day I am hungry is in the mid-afternoon.
What this basically means is, I'm spending way too much money on lunch. I'm consuming about 90% of my daily calories in the mid-afternoon. This causes me to feel dizzy beforehand and (especially) lethargic for a few hours after. Somehow, I've lost five pounds in almost a month of eating in this fashion, but it still doesn't strike me as a healthy way of life. Not a strategy I think the dietitians would heartily endorse.
I daresay I'm just seeking something about as consistent as what I'm doing now, but more. . . sane, wouldn't you agree? More balanced. It just feels a little challenging to manage that when my job is extremely mobile/portable and my schedule is all over the place. I mean, how can you pack frozen entrees or leftovers when you're going to be in the car for most of the day? You can't exactly bring a microwave with you for heating that stuff up. Maybe I'm hopelessly unimaginative, but current circumstances leave me with what I perceive as limited options, restaurants aside. I bought a cooler a while ago, but don't feel motivated to pack my classic standbys such as cold sandwiches, yogurt, or string cheese because -- plain and simple -- I'm bored with them. I've eaten those things entirely too many times; my palate is sick of them. I suppose, what this all boils down to is, everything comes at some cost. . .
Even beyond the whole issue of food, though, is that of sleep. I find myself desperately wanting to become a morning person. Difficult as waking up has always been for me, I secretly harbor a deep admiration towards self-professed morning people. There seems to be such an aura of productivity about them. Such discipline. . . such honor. . . such nobility! OK, so I'm now describing them as if they were veterans who once risked their lives in combat. Still, though! When you think of a morning person, don't you automatically picture someone who bounces out of bed in a whirlwind of wondrous energy, laces up the jogging shoes, goes outside for a rain-or-shine workout while boldly smiling at tired commuters, then returns home to whip up a healthy egg-white omelet and prepare for a successful day?
Of us nocturnal slackers, on the other hand, the mental image does not feel quite so complimentary. Whenever I stay up too late (which is practically all the time, as you can surmise from my lovely little food routine up there), I feel lonely, sometimes slump over in a chair while Web-surfing for too long, and "glaze over" more than just a little bit. Focusing feels impossible. Exercising or cleaning in the dead of night feels eccentric (even though, yes, I have been known to try that). I believe, if I shifted my going-to-bed and waking-up times back by just a few hours, I would benefit from considerably more sunlight and less isolation. As with so many aspects of life, it's just initially getting there that's the toughest part.
Well, somehow, I'm going to experiment until I find a technique that works. I'm planning to "participate in behavior modification" (to dust off and borrow a term from a psychologically-oriented class I took once). It might require blood and sweat, it may call for tremendous inner strength I've never before had to muster, but I'm utterly determined to make the needed sacrifices and DEFEAT THE EVIL POWER OF THE SNOOZE BUTTON!
Just, please, don't honk your horn and give me the finger if I someday flash an obnoxious early-morning grin in your direction.
