Creature of habit

I really have no idea what made me think of this particular topic, but once I did, I really got into it and decided to take a closer look at myself. Turns out I have some pretty strange habits:

  • Brush my teeth before washing my face.
  • Shower before brushing my teeth.
  • Eat the same breakfast every day — fresh fruit, plain greek yoghurt, honey, chopped walnuts and a bit of granola.
  • Make the bed before having breakfast.
  • Have breakfast before getting dressed.
  • Dress in the same order — first bottom, then shoes, then watch, then top.
  • Replace vitamins, shampoo, detergent, condiments etc. when I’m halfway through them.
  • Take vitamins in the same order.
  • Empty the bottom half of the dishwasher before the top.
  • Read the Sunday New York Times in the same order — Style section, News, Arts, Sunday Business, Sunday Review, Travel, the Magazine and the Book Review last.

There’s no doubt in my mind there’s more. But I’m not sure I want to know.

Should I be admitting to any of this? Is it time for an intervention? Should I be seeking medical help? Do you feel like coming over to my apartment, throwing everything on the floor and mixing it all up so I’m forced to do it all in a different order (not that I’d blame you if you did, I’m tempted to do it myself)?

Okay, your turn now.

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Who can relate?

I saw this in last Sunday’s New York Times. It made me laugh out loud and it was too good, and too funny, not to share. It was written by Julia Shiplett, who’s a comedian and writer. Tell me, how many of these excuses seem familiar. Come on, be honest.

The “Eating” illustration is by Rattle, available on Flickr, Continue reading

Sorry, sorry, sorry …

The week just flew by. I’ve been drowning in deadlines lately, chained to my laptop, literally working my butt off, leaving me no time to even think about my blog, let alone write a blog post. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’ve been  gratefully writing away.

But it does beg the question, why is it that life is always either a matter of feast or famine? All or nothing. Don’t give yourself a headache trying to come up with an answer, it’s a hypothetical question. I don’t think there is an answer.

Anyway by about 3:00 p.m. on Sunday I was desperate
for a break. My brain was tired and aching, my eyes were Continue reading

Inspiration, and a lesson, when you least expect it …

This isn’t the blog post I’d started to write for today. But a funny thing happened on my way to googling an article I’d read in the Sunday New York Times I wanted to include as a link. I found something else that stopped me in my tracks. I loved it so much I shelved the original idea (at least for now) and changed course.

I look forward to the Sunday Times all week . It is such a great read, just crammed with all sorts of interesting and Continue reading

Different worlds …

Last week I was having an email conversation with someone I knew years ago in Montreal and have re-connected with onhieroglyphic Facebook.

We started off talking about libraries. One thing led to another and libraries led to our shared love of books. Books led to e-books and e-books led to tech and tech led to cursive script, which led to future generations.

Trust me, it made sense. You had to be there.

First she told me about her granddaughter, who’s a junior in University, and all the techie equipment the school expects her to Continue reading

Whatever happened to love at first sight?

I love reading the Sunday New York Times.  I look forward to it all week.  Sometimes it takes me the better part of the week to tiffany'sget through it all, but I read it from cover to cover.  Every section.  Well that’s not entirely true.  I don’t read the sports section. Occasionally I skim it, but I don’t even do that all the time.

What I never miss, though, are the wedding announcements.  Why, God only knows.  I don’t know any of the brides and grooms.  So why should I give a toss that they’re getting married, where they’re getting married, who their parents are or what any of
them do for a living.

But I do, it seems.

Does this mean I’m a real nosy parker?  A hopeless romantic?  Someone who needs a

Continue reading

Day 224. Hanging Around

In the end there were no St. Paddy’s Day festivities for me.  On Friday, I spent a couple of hours at my local Starbucks, so I wouldn’t get in my cleaning lady’s way.  Took my laptopvitamins and decided to do some writing there.

It was cold here; and every time someone opened the door, to come in or to leave, a gust of cold air surrounded me.  By the time I got back home I was really chilled.  Not just cold on the surface of my body.  I mean the kind of cold you feel under your skin.

When your bones feel cold.  When, no matter what you try, you just can’t seem to get warm.

Not that I didn’t try.  I put on my warmest jammies.  I was still shivering.  I put on a fleece robe.  Honest to God I was still cold.  So eventually I crawled under my duvet.  But not before I took an Oil of Oregano pill.  In case you Continue reading

Day 127. Unexpected ‘Friendships’

A headline on the front page of the Styles section in this past Sunday New York Times caught my attention:  “Forging A Bond In Mud And Guts”.  It was a story aboutfriendship “Tough Mudder”.  Which is, as Joshua David Stein (the writer) explains, “an extreme obstacle course that is becoming the macho sport of choice for Type A men (and some women) who find marathons too easy and triathlons meh”.

My interest in the story had nothing to do with any desire, on my part, to roll around in the mud.  Not even with some hunky ‘warrior’ type.  I was intrigued by the pulling together, the teamwork and the camaraderie between these guys.  And also by the encouragement they gave each other.  Even though, for the most part, they’d entered the event as strangers.

They were bonding.  It was instinctive.  Primal.  In this case, it was happening because of the gruelling Continue reading

Day 20. Love Sundays

When you freelance, like I do, weekends don’t seem to take on the same importance as they do when you have a full time job.

As long as I make my deadlines, I can do all the chores usually reserved for Saturdays and Sundays, any day of the week I please.  As long as I make all my deadlines, I can go for a walk, do pilates, visit with a friend, have a manicure or read a book at any time during the day.  Unless I have a client meeting, I never have to ‘dress for success’.  I can work in jeans, sweats and, for that matter, my jammies.  But despite all the freedom I have, I do look forward to Sundays; and my delivery of the Sunday New York Times.

My parents had it delivered, so it’s a ‘ritual’ I grew up with.

In winter, when I become a recluse, there’s nothing I like better than collecting it from the mat outside my door and getting back into bed — where I stay for hours — with a huge mug of tea (don’t make coffee at home) and the entire newspaper, spread out all around me.  Not the easiest thing to do when you have cats, mind you.  They don’t like being ignored — even when they’re ignoring Continue reading