I'm always waiting too long

This should get done sooner. That's the story of my life. How well can you do what you know you need to do if you're always doing it just before it's too late? Like you've just remembered that you have to make lunch for tomorrow when you realize that there's no bread. Or rather, the bread is in the freezer. So you stand up to go to the freezer. You find the loaf - rye - already opened at some point, so there's a lot of frost in the bag. Now you're wondering how to thaw the bread without it sitting and soaking in all that frost when it melts. Just then you realize that it might be nice to eat something. A little something, as they say. Your little something tonight will be graham crackers and peanut butter, which tastes pretty good, but there's something about the combination of graham crackers and peanut butter that facilitates the peanut butter to stick, tenaciously, to the roof of your mouth, and to that space between your cheek and your teeth. You're always having to stick your finger in there to remove the wads of peanut butter and ground up graham cracker - brownish blobs that you really shouldn't look at before you put them back into your mouth - that your tongue just can't get at.

You're wondering what sort of lunch to make that will be look-forward-to-able enough for a Friday. Yesterday, on the way to the staffroom for lunch a colleague says that lunch is always the best meal of the day, because you're ravenous. You've been working, and you've been waiting for that break, and then when it comes, and you get to eat during it too, it's just too good. So there's a lot of pressure on the quality of your lunch-making. Do you see what I mean? I've been trying to up the ante a bit. Really, though peanut butter and honey might be all right for an evening snack, or a Saturday afternoon pick-me-up, your ravenous lunchtime appetite deserves more gustatory pleasure. Lately it's been garden tomatoes and toast and cheese and mayonnaise. That's pretty fine, I'd say. That'll probably what I'll get ready in just a few minutes. 

There's a toaster in the staffroom, so I just pack three slices of rye bread, plain, in a plastic sandwich container. Then I fill another, smaller, plastic container with mayonnaise, and cut about six slices of old cheddar cheese. Together with a fist sized tomato, an orange, and an apple (also from the tree on the yard), this all gets arranged in a plastic bag (usually a white plastic grocery bag) and tied up tight to keep it all together, so as not to crush the tomato. In the morning this will sit in my pannier, on top of the pants I've packed. Then I'll load the panniers on the bike and head off to work. 

I'm waiting too long, because I'm always making this lunch at or around 12 pm. I don't really know why I can't just accept that this is my routine. There's no real reason to fight it, because though it's always a bit of struggle to get up in the morning, once I'm up and at school, I'm awake. I never feel sleepy in the way that makes me think that I need more sleep. Still, it feels like I wait too long. You know? It's 11:51 pm and I haven't made my lunch, or brushed my teeth, or shaved. Really all I want to do is go to bed, but I have all these things to do because I've waited too long. 

Ride report

in:      6'C wind 30ks NW

out:  12'C wind 30ks NNW