It’s So Me
I’m a slave to my habits. My mom used to say she just looks at her watch and she knows what I’m doing. I’m so predictable I sometimes shudder at the thought.
I park on the same spot everyday.
I go to my favorite thai restaurant and order the same dish.
I browse magazines backwards. In other words, right to left starting from the last page.
I take a shower at exactly the same time everyday.
I go to the john like clockwork at the same time every morning. If it happens to be occupied I control my urge and patiently wait for my turn.
I’m so predictable I’m so pathetically cuddly.
I start coughing and the neighbors know winter has arrived. I start sneezing and they know springtime is coming soon.
I feel like playing chess and my opponent knows my every move. Which brings my chance of winning to nada.
The mass of men live lives of quiet desperation, according to Thoreau. I wonder if I’ve become a member of this mass of men by default.
Developing habit patterns isn’t that bad, though. It saves me from making decisions all the time. I can’t imagine a life where I have to think and decide what to do every waking moment. That would be miserable, indeed.
The trick is to learn good habits as opposed to bad habits. But it’s not easy to do because by nature I’m lazy, and acquiring bad habits is the path to least resistance.