This post will be published around the time my teenager and I are stumbling out of the house for the first day of school. There will be faint whiffs of excitement, a lot whining, and some yelling. The yelling will be from me.
I am always late. No matter where I go. I am late – running through the door at eight for work, sneaking in through the back doors at church, waving across the room at chatting friends who have been waiting for at least five minutes. I try. I really do, but my efforts never pan out.
For months I have been obsessed with morning routines. I watch youtube videos and listen to podcasts. I read blog posts. I even read Hal Elrod’s Miracle Morning. The problem is, I can never stick to the routine. Sure, I do great at first: lunches packed the night before, clothes laid out and ironed, breakfast prepared and ready to go, morning meetings with myself over coffee… and then I fall off. Game of Thrones comes on, someone calls, or I fall asleep on the couch, and then nothing gets done. The next morning I find myself once again scrambling to get out the door ten minutes too late.
The good thing about a new school year is that gives me and my son a chance for a new start. Maybe this time it’ll work. The Miracle Morning works, planning ahead of time works. It’s me that’s a problem and I’ve got no choice but to get it together. I’m tired of fighting with myself every morning. It’s getting me nowhere, and definitely not anywhere on time.