Routines as time capsule
Isn’t it magical when a certain scent or sound instantly transports you to a particular time, under particular circumstances, in vivid, visceral detail?
Every once in a while, I think about another medium that can capture moments so evocatively: the time of day, as a portal to familiar routines.
Take 10 pm.
10 pm has meant so many different things to me in my thirty-something years so far. It’s almost like I can set a dial to “10 pm” plus a certain year, and then instantly time travel back into the evening routine of that phase of life. I would suddenly be prompted to remember: What was I doing around 10 pm back then? What would I be getting ready to do next? What would I have wanted to be doing instead?
Let’s give this dial a whirl…
Here I go setting it to…
2003 (late elementary school): I see the MTV 10 Spot line-up come up on TV and think there’s no way I could get away with watching it since my bed is in the living room of my family’s apartment. So, fine, I tuck into bed with a tiny Sony radio player tuned to Z100 and listen until I finally decide to go to sleep.
…
2009 (high school): I’m messing around on the Soompi forums, browsing for 15 minutes every time I complete two sentences of an essay. I’m not gonna finish homework at a respectable hour…but am having the time of my life!
…
2012 (college): I’m learning that 10 pm to 3 am (or later) is now a legitimate part of the day. I’m sitting in front of my laptop with water, a bottle of Starbucks frappe, Chex Mix, among other varieties of sustenance, ready to (ideally) give it my all but will inevitably fall short. I’m an architecture major. What’s sleep?
…
2017 (young professional): I’m snacking, figuring out plans with roommates (Governors Island? Noguchi Museum? K-bbq…again?), working on my blog, soon to head to bed with a book, feeling the rumbling of the A train six-plus stories underneath me… living the dream.
…
2020 (you already know): My husband (!) and I are watching television! More than ever before and ever again. We start calling Jim and Pam our friends.
…
2023 (expecting my first): I’m parked on the couch with a dozen Reddit threads open to research baby products while having my requisite evening banana. I’ll fall asleep in this state soon, and will need to muster all my willpower to wash up for bed.
…
2023 pt. 2 (newborn daze): I’m holding and singing my daughter to sleep, hopefully for a stretch that lasts 3+ hours… if successful, I’m rushing downstairs to indulge in a little bit of grownup time (snacks and maybe some wine).
…
2025 (toddler mom already?!): I’m finally heading into the shower after baby bedtime and cleanup, then coming back downstairs to do any assortment of “admin” — pay bills, online shop, figure out what to pack for daycare tomorrow, reply to DMs I’ve been neglecting, send baby pics from the day to our families, and snacking as always…
We often talk about how routines, if they’re good ones, can make life better. Routines, I’ve learned, also make the mundane memorable. Every rep paints a sharper, more vibrant impression of what we’ve experienced. This is another reason to be grateful for being able to do the same things everyday. When the future you looks back, you’ll likely realize each routine was really only a phase.