Routine – not always a bad thing


Back in 2009, Victoria was ground zero in a swine flu pandemic. Kiddo and Tress travelled to Malaysia for a holiday and ended up being quarantined by the Malaysian authorities the whole time. Back in Melbourne alone, I was struck down with one of the worst flu episodes I had ever experienced. The Tamiflu capsules I was prescribed didn’t appear to help too much.

I was given Tamiflu again last week. I had finished my first day back at work, after our holidays to the tropics, feeling under the weather and sometime during that night, the fevers and body aches told me it wasn’t just a cold I was nursing. I was a bit ordinary and went to the doctor by Wednesday and was told I had the flu bug. I was told to stay away from work so I ended up taking the whole week off. By Friday however, I was feeling quite well so I enjoyed that day just working from home and having a good lunch with Tress, who looked like she was travelling less well.

On Saturday, we both decided to go away so after a sleep in and late brekky, we decided to trek across town to head towards Portarlington for the mussels festival. Portarlington was a couple of hours away and we were on track for a lunch time arrival but half of Melbourne must have had the same idea, as some 10km out, the traffic was crawling and it felt like Portarlington was going to be hard yakka to manoeuvre through. So, we decided to turn back and headed instead to Geelong, where we picked out a lunch spot (an Indonesian joint…) and then walked on the foreshore area for a bit. It was a lovely day out and we both enjoyed it. The warm, breezy and laid back atmosphere was such a welcomed contrast to the hustle and bustle and heat and congestion of where we were a couple of weeks back.

On Sunday we were both on communion duty but Tress’ cold meant it wasn’t a good idea for her to proceed so she got someone to replace her. It was very good to be back at St Alf’s where the laidback atmosphere and clear and concise preaching made it easier to be wholly engaged.

We were well and truly back to our usual routine when we bumped into Jason and Mel at our usual lunch spot. Later that arvo, Tress went out for one of her online game soirees and I pottered around the house, mucking around with some tap fittings to better water the gardens. As we both prepared food for the new working week, the sense of returning to familiar routines was very strong.

Reading one of Michael Bird’s books on the train this morning felt like hard work – probably because I’m not his intended audience. It takes a certain mindset (i.e., a theology student) to read that properly and I wonder if I’d survive to finish this volume. The sheer pleasure of reading on a quiet train ride in to work however, was a blessing. Some may view a life of what feels like a groundhog day, mundane and unexciting, but I’d have this, every day of a week.

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