I got to thinking this morning about life’s little foibles and decided to list a few of mine. The first would have to be procrastination.
Or should I put it first? Well, I could put it off till a little later. Wouldn’t hurt, there are so many other things to consider. Anyway, I don’t have time for it right now.
Sound familiar? My wife says I always wait till the last minute. Probably came from my newspaper experience, which is where I started this word game many years ago. I got so used to working with deadlines, often pushing right up to them, that I tend to get things done just before they’re due (the ultimate deadline).
As she readily points out, it occasionally means I get bogged down and miss the deadline for using a discount coupon, making a hotel reservation, or getting something done with a manuscript. Okay, I admit, I’m a procrastinator.
Another foible is I’m too trusting. I take people at their word unless they’ve shown I can’t believe them. I get lied to a lot. And I accept that people are basically good until they prove I’m wrong. I don’t buy bridges from strangers, but I’m not as wary as I ought to be.
How about this one? I hate to dress up. You’ll rarely see me in anything but jeans (blue or tan), a knit shirt, and sneakers (I prefer Rockports). At a book signing, I’ll opt for navy or black (Timber Creek by Wrangler) dressy pants. I’ll usually wear black loafers. I haven’t worn a tie in about a year. Can’t remember why I did then.
I’m always “running out of time” because of a tendency to get too involved. I spent eighteen years in association management, running a 4,000-member organization of volunteers. I spent my career encouraging people to get involved. My feeling is if you’re going to belong to an organization, you should commit to take part in it. I volunteer for things. Presently I’m secretary of the Southeast Chapter of Mystery Writers of America and president of the Middle Tennessee Chapter of Sisters in Crime. I help with the Killer Nashville conference.
I’m sure I could come up with lots more foibles, but I’ve run out of time to get this up on Blogspot. Anyway, at this stage of the game I wear my foibles proudly. My theory is when you make it past eighty, you get a free pass to do as you danged well please. If somebody doesn’t like my lifestyle, they can complain after they pass the eight-zero mark.