Out of the desire to pay a little more attention to the smaller details of my life (and to post more often) , today begins a week-long series I will call, What I Did All Day. (Please forgive the constant change in verb tense throughout this post. I am too tired to make it all agree.)

6:30am Alarm goes off. I was hoping to get an early start on the day by heading to the post office before work to mail off my Christmas present to mein Schatz. Instead, I hit the snooze button repeatedly.

7:07am I finally roll out of bed, resigned to the idea that I’ll have to go to the post office after work instead. Turn on the coffee maker and make myself presentable.

7:30am Video Skype with mein Schatz (that six-hour time difference is a killer). I am exhausted and hardly conversation-worthy (as I sleepily slurp my coffee), but he takes it in stride and fills me in on his day so far.

8:00am Finish getting ready for work. Change my outfit once and my boots twice.

8:30am Head for the subway. Upon arrival of the first train, I realize it is too jam-packed and I couldn’t stuff myself in it, even if I had the help of one of those “pushers” that they use in the Tokyo subway system. So I back off and wait. The next train arrives, and is still crowded, but this time I can shove myself on. I stand pressed up to an unpleasant smelling man. I hold my breath, and try to keep the canvas bag that I’m carrying (with the Christmas package) from swinging and hitting the people standing next to me. About 12 minutes later, I’m at my stop, and I shove my way through the mass of people in order to get off the train. (Lest you think I exaggerate, shoving is really the most appropriate term for my morning commute.)

9:00am Arrive at the office. My research assistant calls in sick. Work work work. Meeting. Try to persuade colleagues not to apply for a proposal that is too off-mission from the aim of the organization and will only serve to take staff away from their programs for weeks at a time (even though it sounds totally cool and I secretly wish I could apply for it myself). Work work work. Eat too many of the chocolates my boss gave us for the holidays and lose my appetite.

6:45pm Realize that it is now too late to get to the post office before it closes. Swear under my breath. Try to figure out if there is some way to print out my postage online and drop it off at the post office tomorrow. Indeed there is! But first I have to weigh the package. Dang. Put the package back in the canvas bag and catch the train home.

7:00pm The train comes right away and I even find a seat. I contemplate just closing my eyes and wallowing in my chocolate-induced headache. But instead I pull out a transcript from a qualitative interview of a woman who was beaten by the father of her child but didn’t want to press charges. I need to read the transcript repeatedly this week before I start summarizing the important thematic elements. Unfortunately, I hate reading things more than once (unless so much time has passed that I don’t remember any of the content). And even more unfortunately, reading through the transcript repeatedly is one of the most important things about this project. Sigh. So I begin read-through number two.

7:30pm I walk home from the train and consider whether my headache is really bad enough to deserve dropping my laundry off at the laundromat to be done, or if I should just do it myself. I always have an unexplained sense of guilt whenever I drop my laundry off to be done. What is that about? Some fear of being bourgeoisie, perhaps? Even though it is only $6.00. Even though I spend so much time working for a social service agency for victims of violence that I am often not home at any of the hours that coincide with the open-hours of the laundromat. Despite all of that, the little voice in the back of my head says, “What? You’re too good to do your own laundry?” Sometimes I drop it off anyway, but it’s usually not until I’m totally desperate and my laundry has been sitting in my apartment for way too long (in denial that I’ll actually be able to get around to it). Tonight the little voice wins.

7:45pm Walk the block to the laundromat. Put clothes in washer. Come home. Read through my mail. Weigh the Christmas package (1.5 lbs). Nosh on some carrots and hummus.

8:15pm Walk back to the laundromat. Put wet clothes in dryer. Come home. Check my e-mail. Do some weight lifting with my hand weights, so I don’t feel so guilty about not going to the gym. Chat awhile with my roommate about the horrid bachelorette party she went to last weekend in Pennsylvania for one of her friends from high school.

9:00pm Pick up my dry clothes from the laundromat. Ignore the dishes sitting in the sink. Fold the laundry. Prep the coffee maker for tomorrow morning. Pack my German notes and workbook in my bag for tomorrow night’s class.

9:40pm Change out of work clothes and put on my pajamas. Curl up on the couch and try to finish transcript read-through number 2.

10:15pm Start nodding off. Give up on the transcript. Go to bed.