Sunday, September 30, 2012

The Jig Is Up!

I'm no renegade – poor grammar aside – that's the truth.  I ain-no-wren-a-gae.  I'm sorry.  I saw Nell again recently and keep on doing that.  Chic-a-pie, tay-in-a-win. 


Back to me not being a renegade.  I couldn't be further from that, in fact, my life could bore a monk.  I think I've said that before… everything is beginning to sound familiar to me, but then again, why wouldn't it?  This is my life and these are my thoughts – they should be ringing a bell, right?


Okay, what are we talking about so far? Anybody? Anybody? If you're thinking renegades, monks and bell ringers, you're wrong; although, if I keep up this new habit, I'll be looking like Quasimodo in no time at all.  As the Disney version of this cathedral bell-ringer pops into my head, let me just say the parallel I'm drawing has nothing to do with his toothy grin, but everything to do with his hump.  What hump?   Let me dispense with the movie tidbits.


Back to the habit.  You know what's funny about habits?  It's that you never know when one is going to start.  You do something once and all of a sudden it's part of you. Of course drug lords understand this all too well.  That's why it's important to Just Say No.  Let me digress for a moment – I know what you're thinking.  Did you even start telling us the story yet?  Just sit tight, I'll get to it. 


When I reiterate Nancy Reagan's slogan, I don't do it as someone who lived a life that would bore a monk – that's my life now, not then – but here's my point (yes, I have one).  When someone first starts smoking, their body violently rejects the toxins; they cough, choke and gag through several cigarettes before they become accustomed to it.  Same with alcohol.  A shot of hard liquor burns the throat and takes the breath away.  Several shots – or a case of beer, whatever – can cause convulsive vomiting which is usually accompanied by pleas to the Lord and almost always followed by a headache so severe you can't lift up your own head.  Most forget their vow to never drink again as soon as they regain the ability to balance their noggin.    


Here's my point.  Yes!  I told you I have one.  People force themselves and their bodies into these bad habits.  When was the last time you saw someone go through this physical anguish for something that was actually good for them, like, say, Brussels sprouts?  It's just not done.  Maybe because Brussels sprouts lack the 'cool' factor – I don't know.  The thing is cigarettes, booze and drugs are not cool.  Young people have been duped.  Get them while they're young…  


Back to my quickly formed habit.  It all started a few short weeks ago.  My nephew was staying over and we had plans to go to a park that has Go-Karts, Mini-Golf and other fun outdoorsy type things, but a monsoon storm was predicted, so just to be prepared, I bought a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle that we could work on together in the event we got rained out.  We didn't.  Plan A went off without a hitch. 


The next morning, over coffee, I decided to separate the straight-edged pieces from the others so that when Griffin got up, he could start the puzzle.  He decided to work on some old 100-piece favorites, however, so I started the new puzzle – and my new habit, as it turned out.


One doesn't do a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle in one sitting.  What was I going to do now?  I had the perimeter done and few miscellaneous chucks.  I certainly couldn't leave everything on my kitchen island, but I didn't want my efforts to be for naught, so we went to Target and bought a little card table.  G helped me transfer the pieces of the partially complete 500-piece ice cream cone to the table and then we moved the table into my guest bedroom. 


Several puzzles later – 500, 750 and even 1,000 pieces – I feel I need to break this habit.  Don't get me wrong.  It's not hurting anybody.  It's just that the other day I was in there – the A/C blows very cold in that room – and as I was hunched over the table, scouring the pieces, I shivered then thought to myself that something over my shoulders to take away the chill would be nice.  As that thought occurred to me I sat straight up.  A shawl?  Is that what I was picturing – a shawl?  I am not 87-years old.  Enough with the puzzles, I thought; plus, I need to get my guest room back. 


Once I finish the current puzzle I'm working on, that is it – I'm quitting.  I do worry, though, isn't that what all the addicts say?  Just this last one…


~ M.