Wednesday, February 3, 2010

A habitity sort.....

Yesterday was Groundhog Day....and today is Groundhog Day too, and I'm willing to make a little wager that tomorrow will be, you guessed it, Groundhog day again.

I'm making reference to the movie with Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell...the one where the day repeats itself over and over and over again until it is perfect.

I like the concept; it suits me, habitity sort that I am.

I’ve been drinking coffee from the same cup (I have a set of four) for more that 20 years. That has to be some kind of record…that all four cups survived a 20 year stint in our house, crammed into our cupboards, jammed in our dishwasher, used and abused.

This morning I have a moment of panic when I rummage through the cupboard and can’t find even one of them.

The slight panic gives way to common sense.

Pick a cup, asshole.

But wait, I think, will it screw up my day to use a different one?

I’m superstitious that way.

I find a dirty one in the dishwasher. A dab of Palmolive later its filled with my strong coffee, and a dribble of milk.

I find a strange comfort in knowing what's coming.

Sometimes I wish there were things that once you did them often enough they just "did themselves".

Things like applying makeup for instance.

Every day I stand and face the big mirror in my bathroom. A turban wrapped dingy white towel holds my freshly shampooed hair.

Check chin for hairs. Notice previously fine lines becoming small valleys.

I pull out my makeup suitcases.

Maybe I should try a smoldering smoky eyed look today...or vamp my lips with a bright matte red?

I feel a bit like a robot when I pull out the same old bottles, and tubes and jars and brushes and sponges and plaster the crap on my face filling the craters pores with nondescript color.

I choose an eye shadow, one of many that are all the same shade. Ditto lipstick.

I can do this with my eyes closed.

Same shit, different day. Different day, same shit.

Every day I eat Corn Flakes for breakfast.

Same bowl, same spoon, (the heavy one with the patterned top).

The same seat, in the same spot.

Little bit of milk, lot a bit of sugar.

Every day.

Fill my water bottle, gather my pills, and slip into my shoes.

Black leather, 2.0 inch heel, slightly squared toe.

I have them in brown too.

I’ll buy them again when the ones I wear now get scuffed and slant heeled.

Out the door, in the door…a few hours in between.

Before I know it its bedtime.

Set the alarm, make the coffee, set the timer, and check the door locks.

Whisper "sweet dreams".

Tomorrow is Groundhog Day.

Over and over again, till I get it right.

1 comment:

  1. I hear and feel your pain, sister... My cup is a huge Campbell soup mug - if I can't find it - I panic..... geez.. Happy Friggin Groundhogs day to you too.... and to think he saw his shadow - 6 more weeks....

    Love to you


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