Hab-shits
Day 34: a list of 5 very strange and mostly not great things that I now do.
Put butter on everything.
I just went to make myself matzah with peanut butter and blackberry jam on top. I want a real PB&J but I’m rationing leaven bread and don’t have blueberry jelly (the only acceptable jelly for PB&J, don’t @ me). But just before I spread the PB on the M (how dare you go jelly first) I thought, I want butter. It’s a thought I think often when I’m about to consume not butter. What if I just made a PB and B instead… PB is always so P heavy. What if I added more B? And so I did. I spread butter on the matzah. Then I spread peanut butter on the butter. Then I ate it. And it was delicious.
Yeah but Peanut Butter has the word butter in it, you just thought. The word itself was the obvious craving trigger. That’s not so strange/bad/weird.
Yesterday my mind whispered butterrrrr right before I ate a handful of tortilla chips. Turns out a blue corn triangle is a most convenient size and thickness to skim right over a stick of butter.
Talk to the characters on the TV
This started with NEXT IN FASHION which made sense because it’s a reality competition show. I had critique comments akin to a man yelling at the football men. COME ON MINJU! YOU’VE GOT IT BABY! JUST GRAB THE FUCKING SEQUINS AND RUN THEM PAST DANIEL! But then I started having full conversations with the cast of THE MARVELOUS MRS. MAISEL. And not your mother watching an indie film conversations (Why is nothing happening? And no one is talking. Nothing is happening and no one is talking and it’s too dark. And this movie beat out LA LA LAND for an Oscar?) I engage with the characters in the scene as if I am but another character they just haven’t noticed. Oh so now we just walk in the house without saying hello? You’re rude, Midge. You’re rude and no one in this family appreciates it. It makes a little sense on a show about an East Coast-bred woman in comedy. It makes less sense when I watch THE AMERICANS. Who knew I was fluent in Russian?
Quit.
Yesterday I experienced a rare burst of energy and inspiration, so I ran to the closet to put on something fabulous. Clothing has always had a sort of micro dose of LSD-effect on my day. (I think? I haven’t micro-dosed LSD, yet).
Once at the closet I pulled out the first two things that caught my eye: a silky white button down and my favorite merlot leather pants. I held them in my hands and imagined how good it would feel to wear them around the house for a change. They would go perfectly with the Albarino I just curb-side-picked-up. Mmm and a hunk of cold butterrrr.
So I put them on the bed - flat lay style. Then laid myself on top of them. Not like, it’s been so long that’s how I think you put clothes on. Like my Quarantine suddenly decided, game over. Time to quit.
The flat lay was me. Sorry. The flat lay was I.
Make Farts
I’m not going to go into a lot of detail about this, but it’s not great guys. Is this the result of pandemic stress + boxed oat milk? Because so help me God if it’s butter.
I will say this “habit” has been fun to incorporate into habit #2. That Phyllis Schlafly thinks she’s so prim and proper. Sounds like she rips ‘em just like the rest of us. (just started MRS. AMERICA on Hulu).
Redecorate my house
Is re-decorating a habit? Feels like more of a project. Well if you do that “project” over and over again every single day without taking any real steps to complete it (because it doesn’t actually need to be done) it’s a habit. Or an obsession? I’m not sure but if you’re curious about the complete inventory of every vintage furniture store in the greater LA area, drop me a line.
Honorable mention habits include: straighten framed photos on walls; research beautiful cocktail recipes while pouring bourbon into a mug; “sing” “songs” that I “wrote” for my “dog”, not poop.
You?
