I have countless habits. Some bad, some good. I don’t bite my nails, but I bite my lip. I vacuum regularly, but I never make my bed. The list goes on and on. However, there’s one habit I have that could go either way.
This habit has been with me since birth, I’m sure, but it became, shall we say, pronounced when I became a mom. When you spend all your time telling a smaller human being how to be a human being, you feel this oppressive need to be a good example.
But then you’re left alone and realize there is no one around to tell you what to do. No one for whom you have to be that good example. In fact, you can be a bad example because only the cats are watching and they’re not likely to put off something like washing the pots and pans one more night just to lounge on the couch with a bag of Famous Amos cookies. Or the equivalent of that in the cat world.
Not that I’ve done that. Ahem.
Tonight, I rationalized big time. There’s a chain of frozen yogurt shops around my area, all carrying different flavors every day. On Facebook I can find out what flavors are where. The flavor I wanted, yellow cake batter, was only at the store that is about five miles (or more) from my house.
I really wanted that yogurt. But if I went home and ate a sensible dinner, I’d never go back out to get it. I could swing by on the way home, but that would require taking the more annoying, higher-traffic route and I didn’t want to do that. Then I remembered something. That shop is right by the library. The library where I need to return this audio book I checked out last week.
I had a reason to be over there. In fact, I would be killing two birds with one drive by returning the audio book AND getting the yogurt. So I did it. But then, while enjoying my yogurt on the drive home, I started to think. (Always dangerous.)
What if I were to use this power for good?
What I really want right now is to be published. To do that, I have to write a really good book. Or two. Or ten. The only way to do that is to write every night, as much as possible. Really put my nose to the proverbial grindstone. I think it’s time to start rationalizing the missed television shows, the laundry still sitting in the dryer (might have already done that), and the cats sitting impatiently behind me waiting to eat.
All those things can wait, because I’m writing.