Human Foibles Make Us What we Are. Don’t They?

I’m sitting here avoiding starting my chores. Not because what I plan to do is a whole lot of work or hard to do – I’m just feeling lazy. This lazy feeling is not uncommon the day after I’ve gone to town to run errands. Alright, so if I’m really honest this lazy feeling is not uncommon. But is complete honesty always necessary?

Drama in the skies starts here

When I buy something that I feel guilty about, or do something really stupid, I always tell myself it’s okay, I don’t have to tell anyone about it. It’s okay if I’m not completely honest, if I don’t go for full disclosure. The government isn’t and doesn’t, so why should I? So what’s the first thing I do? Tell on myself. Always always. It seems keeping secrets isn’t my best thing. Well, secrets that involve me, that is. If someone shares something with me and says “don’t tell anyone”, then I don’t tell anyone. But telling on myself is one of the things I do best.

Then it becomes complete drama

Yesterday I spent running errands. Shopping. I really hate shopping unless it’s for something fun. Fun being a relative term – for me it often means a new electronic toy. Or a really fun item of clothing like a new top. My closet says I don’t need any new clothes, so I’m avoiding them. Just like I’m avoiding craft stores. Yesterday was not fun shopping. What was nice was that a friend came with me, so we visited and had lunch out. When I’m alone, my goal is to get done and get out of town, and I don’t stop to eat. Grocery shopping especially is such a chore – at least in my opinion. You push that cart through all those aisles, checking your list, wondering what you forgot to put on your list, finding that your cart is half full and none of those items were on your list. Then you find the checkout aisle with the fewest carts in line, unload all those items onto the conveyor belt so you can pay (shudder) for them. Into bags, into the cart, out to the car, into the car, home to be carried in again, taken out of the bags, put away. Isn’t there just a lot of redundancy there?

Sometimes the skies are soft and feathery

Speaking of bags – I always carry with me my reusable bags. I feel righteous about using those bags. If only I could remember to take them into the store with me, but that only happens If I’ve put them on the passenger seat next to me, in full view. Some days, when I’m as sharp as a tack, I do manage to remember to get them out of the back of the van. Some days. When. I’m. Sharp. Those days come less frequently now.

Purple iris – it’s my favorite

Then there’s laundry. I think it’s exceedingly accommodating of my washer and dryer to hold the laundry they’ve just processed for me, since they don’t seem to buzz loudly enough to catch my attention, to remind me that laundry is ready for me now. Or they do catch my attention, but something else is much more important at that moment, so I say “just a minute” – because you know those machines hear every word I say – but then in a minute I don’t remember they’ve buzzed. I keep saying I’m going to take my rememberer in for repair, but I don’t seem to remember to do that. It’s a vicious circle, isn’t it?

Flower of the pine tree – lovely until it starts to explode and send clouds of yellow pollen into the air

Human foibles – that’s what makes us all individuals, isn’t it? At least part of what makes us all individuals. That’s what I tell myself. I tell myself it’s okay for me to have stupid times, forgetful times, impatient times, happy times. Because all those silly, obsessive things I do are what make me me. Like my shopping trips are supposed to go in a circle – backtracking is simply not acceptable. Like my clothes need to hang in my closet in a certain order. Today. Tomorrow when I hang up that laundry that’s been in my dryer since yesterday I’ll mess that order up, but that’s just me.

I wish for you a day of living your foibles, sharing your silliness, remembering that every one of us is imperfect and sometimes just not too bright. Never mind if you don’t feel that way, I need to think everyone does. Because. That. Makes. Me. Okay.