I don't have a fixed routine in the traditional sense. But good days have a shape to them and it's worth writing down what that shape looks like, partly to notice it and partly because it's changed significantly from what a day used to look like.
Music on, something starts
A good day starts with music going on and something being built or worked on fairly quickly. Not after a lot of preamble — just getting into something. The longer the gap between waking up and actually starting something, the harder the start becomes. Music on, something open, begin.
Flow for a while
A good day has at least one proper stretch of uninterrupted work — an hour or two where things are actually moving. A feature getting built, a problem getting solved, something going from not working to working. That productive stretch is the core of a good day. Everything else is context.
Claws nearby
Claws being around at some point is a consistent feature of good days. She doesn't have to do anything. Just existing somewhere in the vicinity is enough. It sounds minor and it isn't.
Talking to someone
Good days usually involve talking to at least one person I actually like, even briefly. Discord, messages, whatever. Not because I need a lot of social interaction — I don't — but because a day with zero human contact has a different texture to one where there was at least a conversation somewhere.
Something that isn't screens
On the best days there's at least a small window of not being in front of anything — being outside, eating without the laptop open, existing without input for a bit. I don't always manage this but when I do the rest of the day feels clearer.
How this compares to before
A good day now is quieter, less depleting, and more actually productive than what counted as a good day when I was at school. Not having to spend the majority of my energy on managing environments that didn't suit me means there's energy left for the things I actually want to do. That's a meaningful change and I try not to take it for granted.