Six daily rituals (illustrated).

Warning: this post is pure process porn.

The last time I talked with my editor, I told him I wanted a school bell app for my iPhone. That way, I could set up all my daily activities in discrete time intervals, like in grade school. It was so easy then! When the bell went off, it didn’t matter what I was doing, I had to put down the math worksheet, put away the coloring, go on to the next class, sit down, and re-set my brain.

He made a noise that roughly translated to why in God’s name would you do that to yourself. 

Maybe because I’m a discipline freak?

This is drafting time. I’m pouring the foundation of the house. It takes a lot of discipline. At present, I have six daily rituals. If I do four out of the six—two of which have to be (1) and (2)—I count it a successful day. See? You thought I was cruel and exacting toward myself. Au contraire. I am fair and beneficent.

(1) Morning pages. Two pages of stream of consciousness. It’s summer, so I do them out on my balcony in my underwear and hope that none of the passersby on the sidewalk below can see me.

(2) A thousand words of the new novel. Sometimes it feels like I’m giving birth to angels. Sometimes it feels like I’m vomiting up yesterday’s breakfast.

(3) Gym. Or as I like to call it, my daily gender performance. My goal is to increase my butt several cup sizes.

(4) A half hour of Spanish translation. Recently I had a conversation with my friend Fernando at the gym, who doesn’t speak English, but I could make myself understood in a very limited way, and it felt batshit amazing.

(5) A half hour of research reading. Here’s the current stack. It’s like my compost bin of ideas, fermenting.

(6) A half hour of pleasure reading, often with a Bloody Mary at Motorco. I just finished The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner. It was annoying as hell and I loved it.

And sometimes I see friends.

And sometimes I see lovers.

And sometimes I go out on my balcony to throw pieces of bread to the birdies on my roof.

There is a time for everything under the sun.