Monday
I begin with the end in mind. Other people procrastinate until Wednesday before they even start planning for the weekend. Not me. First thing Monday morning – bam! – I’m aiming for Friday night. Experience has taught me not to underestimate the effort required to succeed in this endeavor. I make it all happen with my results-oriented organizational skills, Visa card, and Twitter.
Tuesday
I embrace the challenge of working remotely from my Williamsburg walkup. I open my MacBook Pro promptly at 9 a.m., ready for anything my exciting and demanding career throws at me. At first I ignore the persistent, ghostlike voice wafting over from the kitchen area: Laura… it’s me, Cinnamon… someone put me beside Garam Masala… I should be next to Cardamom… and my label’s facing the wrong way. But the voice unsettles me because I’m not entirely sure what garam masala is and my name isn’t Laura. Reluctantly, I tear myself away from my exciting and demanding work and stride purposefully to the kitchen area. I crush this problem solve. By lunchtime I have alphabetized the spice rack, disposed of twenty-two pounds of expired food items, cleaned the volcanic splatter from inside the microwave, squeegeed the shower, and Swiffered the entire apartment.
Wednesday
Each workday is a new opportunity to instill order and structure. I begin on a brisk note by sorting the mail. I place smaller, thinner envelopes on top and larger, thicker ones at the bottom, forming a tidy ziggurat of correspondence on the dining table. Symmetry is its own reward. I make a separate pile for the mail that keeps arriving for people no longer at this address, strangers who have moved away and possibly died. With heaviness of heart I realize that one day I, too, will move away and possibly die, leaving future occupants to ponder my existence, then be consumed by the infinite sadness of their own mortality before chucking my mail in the trash. I notice that this epiphany occurred at the exact midpoint of the workweek – the Workweek Equinox, if you will. I seize this opportunity to change into Lululemons and invest the remainder of the day focusing on my holistic wellbeing with some artisanal whiskey from upstate.
Thursday
When you have an exciting and demanding career like mine, staying fit is important to maximizing mental acuity and productivity. I decide to go for an invigorating morning run. Did I actually buy those Reeboks or just try them on that time? It was so long ago. Oh, there they are – and they still fit. I go outside, fill my lungs with fresh air, and jog toward the park that’s just around the – hey, is that a new cheesecake shop? I remind myself that nobody runs with cheesecake so, governed by unflappable self-restraint, I choose to delay gratification and buy one on the way back. By then I’ll deserve a reward for burning off all those crazy calories. But I didn’t bring my wallet or iPhone. No worries, I have a tub of Cherry Garcia at home. Turns out someone ate the last of the Cherry Garcia. I live alone, so the list of suspects is short. Still, several names do appear. I’m nothing if not thorough.
Friday
As I take a moment to reflect on the week’s accomplishments, my good old friend Laura magically pops into my head for no apparent reason. It must be kismet, given how tuned in I am to my spiritual essence. How long has it been? Months? Years? All the more reason to reach out and invite her over tonight and buy that case of chardonnay I’ve been planning since Monday. Cleverly, I buy two bottles at a time from six different places. This way I avoid judgy looks from wine store clerks and I won’t throw my back out again lugging it upstairs all at once. Not that my social drinking is anyone’s damn business – just mine and my good old friend Lauren’s. Sadly, I couldn’t get ahold of Lauren but I drink to the treasured memory of our friendship all the same, if not more so. Nurturing personal relationships is so important.
The Weekend
Late Saturday morning/early afternoon, I hone my research skills by googling the phrase “garam masala.” Okay, so that’s what it is. Then I spring into action. I deposit the empty bottles near the correct recycling bin as I embark on a soul-affirming journey to donate my Reeboks to Goodwill. On the way home, I celebrate my act of selfless generosity with a cherry cheesecake. On Sunday I rest, like it says in the Bible, because it’s going to be another wild week ahead.
