My Bad Habits

My list is about a mile long.

Bad habits can be hard to break–like binge drinking, gambling or running around town topless.

Thank God I no longer exhibit the last habit.

Anyway, I came upon the idea of bad habits because I thought of Walter White from Breaking Bad while I was swimming laps the other day. Walter loved a pristine pool. One episode finds him skimming up a band-aid from the water; which he happened to notice from about 100 yards away.

As I was doing my mile swim yesterday, I noticed an unusual amount of band-aids at the bottom of the pool. I think I even may have noticed a press-on nail, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I can only attribute the piling of band-aids at the bottom of the pool to flu shots. This also made me think that people completely forgot they had a band-aid on when they got into the pool. I mean, looking at band-aids at the bottom of what appeared to be an otherwise spotless swimming pool, really threw off my vibe.

I don’t know if me obsessing over band-aids at the bottom of a swimming pool is a bad habit or just plain weird; like Walter White.

Here are my bad habits. Yes, I’m divulging because one of my bad habits is that I don’t hold back my thoughts.

Holding back my thoughts is like taking in a deep breath and not exhaling. It’s the way I roll. Some people don’t like it. I’m bitchy. I’m too aggressive, I’m raw, or maybe full of myself. I don’t intend on dropping this bad habit of mine. I speak freely. It’s my right to do so; especially when it is the truth. If you don’t like hearing the truth then fuck off.

And, there you have it. Here are some more:

Although I clip my toe nails and discard the clippings in the sink, I have a bad habit of biting my fingernails. I can’t grow my fingernails. This is primarily because I have four dogs who like to use my hands as chew toys. I tried acrylic nails for awhile, but damn! It’s tedious and too high maintenance for me. So, now I just prefer that when I get a tear at the corner of one of my nails, I just rip it off with my teeth and spit it into the trash, floor, yard, wherever.

I count. Endlessly. When I’m walking, swimming, or doing something that actually requires counting, I count. I have no idea why–I should be thinking of curing Ebola or ridding the world of corrupt politicians, but I’m not. I’m counting instead. Sometimes I make up cheers. Writing this makes me think these are not bad habits, but phobias.

Moving on…

I talk over others. I’ve gotten better at this bad habit, but my hearing kind of sucks. When I think someone is done with what they are saying, or possibly waiting for another to chime in (other than myself), I jump right in and kill a conversation. I’m a conversation killer.

I pray the rosary while I’m on the toilet. No shit. I’m a multi-tasker, and I can’t help it. I don’t know if the bible says it’s a sin to pray the rosary on the toilet, but I do it while all four of my dogs are lying around me.

I love candles. This may not sound like a bad habit to some, but I got chastised once by someone on Facebook for using candles because he claimed it ruins the ozone layer. WTF? I just like the look and smell of candles, but apparently I’m killing the planet by lighting a few each night.

I worry about my dogs if I’ve been gone for more than four hours. I think I need to get out of the house more often so I don’t worry about them as much. However, Otto, my 100 pound, ten-month old puppy, escapes his crate. Rather, he ram-rods the crate door and lets himself out leaving his brother alone in the crate room. It’s not a good thing to walk into when you get home, trust me.

I’m a facial snob. I love them. It’s my one indulgence. Some women have never had a spa facial before and they have no idea what they’re missing, or how much it changes your skin over time. Do it, ladies. It’s worth the price. I don’t care if it’s a bad habit or not!

I’m fastidious about my bed sheets. They need to be clean, smoothed out, sprayed with linen spray and lint-brushed every day. The sheets also have to be 750 thread count or higher. I can receive bed sheets for Christmas and be the happiest woman on the planet.

I squeeze the toothpaste tube from the middle. My husband can’t stand it. To me, pressing the tube from the bottom is awkward and not really required because at some point I’m going to have to press from the bottom anyway, so what’s the point?

I clog drains. This isn’t an intentional bad habit. You can blame my hair. I shed like the dogs, but I continue to have a full head of thick, wavy hair that clogs up our shower drain. Dave likes to show me the clogged up hair he pulls out of the drain as proof–just like he likes to show me the victims he snares in the mouse traps in our basement.

Now, those are bad habits.

I yell when I can’t hear. When I’m deaf, I tend to talk louder. Let me rephrase: I tend to crack plaster when I speak if I don’t have my cochlear devices in. It’s a negative in my career path to becoming a librarian, but it’s a hazard to the occupation of being deaf.

Maybe I just shouldn’t talk.

(Applause and clapping from my reading audience)

I leave the lights, television, etc. on when I’m not in the room. My husband always knows where to find me–he just follows the lights on around the house.

I can watch Zero Dark Thirty repeatedly. You’ll get no complaints from me if you ever want to watch it. It’s a bad habit, but I’m just never tired of watching it. Lone Survivor makes me incredibly anxious–I need to leave the room.

I’m a Pinterest addict. I don’t just pin ’em and leave ’em either. I actually use them. I don’t think we’ve had the same meal in this house in over three months. It’s made me start cooking again and I like it.

Maybe that’s not such a bad habit.