Routine?
Routine!?
Where have I put my routine?
Is it buried in the snow outside, or scattered in my home?
Is it collecting dust among the Christmas decorations?
Did I toss it in the chili, short on beans?
Did my dogs tear it apart as if it was one of their toys?
Perhaps it’s in one of my coat pockets
shaking hands with an unmatched glove.
I can’t find my routine.
I know it’s not in my planner —
I haven’t got one for this New Year,
Nor is it on the calendar that still reads December.
I thought it might be on my phone,
but an hour later, I feel it’s even more lost.
I didn’t use it to mark the page in my overdue book.
It didn’t slip between the couch cushions
As Hot Frosty, The Six Triple Eight, and Squid Games autoplayed.
It’s not plugged into the Playstation Game Controller charger.
Maybe it’s in the laundry,
but I’ll check there later.
Where did I last have my routine?
It’s not among the papers and pens strewn on my desk.
My computer shows no sign of it.
It’s not in my trusty gym bag.
Is it by my toothbrush,
The one I left at my in-law’s house?
Where could it be?
For now I’ll try
Writing down on scraps of paper
Goals, Deadlines, Wishes,
Then,
Make a To Do List
With the hope these lure
My routine back to me,
Until it finds another butterfly to chase.
