Structure
I think that I have spent my entire life resisting the particular structure known as a schedule. Ask my homeroom teachers about how often I was late to school. Ask all of my bosses about whether I struggled to get to work on time. Ask my poor, hungry husband about my ability to put supper on the table at a consistent and reasonable hour. Ask my daughter about my ability to get her to college on time the year that we commuted together. (My daughter has chosen to rebel against her upbringing by becoming a time-conscious, prompt, and on-schedule person. Good choice!) Knowing this, you can predict what an amorphous shape my days have taken since retirement. I have a list of daily goals and I do a pretty good job of meeting them, but when things will happen is not defined, and each day becomes increasingly busy with activity as I run out of waking hours to accomplish my goals. The one constant defining point of my day’s structure is taking my Tarceva, which I do first thing in the morning. ...
