Her: Can’t you just delete the one’s you don’t like?
Me: Yes, but… there’s no sense in it. It’s 140 characters, not much room to screw up.
Her: Oh, that seems like plenty of room to me. Why would anyone want to do that anyway?
Me: I don’t know… it’s fun. It’s relaxing. It makes me happy.
Her: You don’t seem very relaxed right now.
Me: Mom, if you keep sneaking into my dreams and bringing me down, I’m going to request the Andy Garcia dreams again.
I do some things out of habit. Old habits. Ones that are hard to break or overcome or stop. I noticed this recently when my kids were all away for the night. It had been a complicated day which was spilling in to a complicated night and I was ready for it to end. I let my dogs in, locked up my house, and made my way to the kids rooms — making sure their night lights were off and their dirty clothes weren’t all over the floor. Then I went to the bathroom in the hallway between all their rooms and flicked the switch on… yes, on. I walked away then realized I didn’t need the bathroom light shining into my room that night as there were no small feet to pidder padder to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Their bathroom light has a tendency to shine at such an angle that it sheds a bit too much light in my room. So I turned around and flicked it off. Then I realized how completely dark my house was. I couldn’t see to manuever back to my room. I searched for the railing of the stairs to help guide me. Once I made it to my room, I then had to weave my way around to crawl in my bed. And there I was… in my bed startled by the complete darkness — the kind of darkness that makes you strain your eyes to see the shadows being cast about the room. The kind of darkness that you can hear — and it’s loud… as loud to your ears as it is blinding to your eyes. Unsettled at the shadows being cast across the walls, reactive to the dogs feet across the floor down stairs… I got up and made my way back to the kids bathroom and flicked the light back on.
Habits, like sleeping with the bathroom light on even when the kids aren’t home. Like having conversations with your mother in your sleep about Twitter. Like always asking “what if?” One’s we can live with and one’s that should probably be tossed out. Habits can control us and make us sick and make us vulnerable and make us weak — or they can fill a need… a void, perhaps.
I’ve taken up card making. It’s a very calming activity for me. I think about a friend and about how that friend has affected me and my life and I try to put thoughts and sayings in the card that express what I love about that friend — then I mail it off and hope it’s received with the love it was sent with. A new habit, I guess. One that feeds my selfish tendencies as well as makes someone smile on the other end — the best of both worlds.
I was thinking about a friend recently. We hadn’t seen each other in a while so I wanted to send her something special, something more than just a card, something I thought she would enjoy — I sent a pie. It made sense at the time… I thought “Hmm, haven’t seen you in a while, haven’t talked in a few weeks — a pie!” Turns out, her and her husband don’t like pie. Hate it even. Still been a while since we talked.
I do that sometimes… a lot actually. I act on my heart and I do it impulsively, sometimes. Other times I don’t act — I freeze. So… you either know I care about you without a doubt because I act on that emotion way too often or you are always wondering. Maybe I send a pie or a card or an email at 3:36 am. Sometimes I do things because my heart tells me to act… right then. And later, maybe not much later, my brain tells me there was a much better way. That probably makes me a little bent… but not too bad.