I did something randomly funny today. I ran to brush my teeth before an early Skype session with a pal this morning.
Not that I didn’t need to. It was half past eight (which everyone knows is the Universal deadline for maintaining oral hygiene). And even the dog had weighed in, turning her head to the side and making a face as I laid a big wet one on her with my coffee infused morning breath.
But no one can smell your breath over the computer (or in space, because space is a vacuum), anyway, the irony of it still makes me laugh.
I do stuff like that. A lot.
I shave my armpits for dentist appointments and photo shoots. I wear false eyelashes…even on Thursdays. I use my turn signal in deserted alleyways, and I clean the kitchen before the cleaning lady comes on Saturdays. Now I can add brushing before Skyping.
Why do we do the things we do?
Are they habits? Born out of a sense of maintaining order and normalcy?
The turn signal certainly is. My left-hand makes the decision before my brain ever has a chance to intervene.
God knows there are lurkers in dark abandoned alleys and these lurkers, deserve to know, just like the rest of us that I will be turning left when I reach the end.
Or not. Like I said, it’s a habit.
Are we aiming to please? And whose pleasure are we after?
Someone once said that “Women dress for other women”. I don’t know about that. I always felt like that was said by a man who hated what his girlfriend was wearing. HE told her to show more cleavage and that ‘those jeans made her butt look big’ but SHE threw on a baggy sweater, hiding her tits — and wore the jeans anyway.
To rave reviews.
Or, no one even noticed.
Both are wins if you ask me.
She did it for herself. She paid a small fortune for the pants, she was already wearing the eyelashes, and it was Thursday.
Mindfulness. (Which means thinking about doing stuff before you do it.)
I write about it and I TRY to practice it but honest to God, most of the things I do are because I strive to offend the least amount of people in the shortest amount of time — and dentists have a thing about armpit stubble. They just do. It’s a thing.
That being said, who do I clean the kitchen for? I’m going to say I do it for ME. My husband says I do it to impress Maria.
Uh, no. Maria is now completely blind in one eye and only has partial sight in the other. My blind maid is impossible to impress.
I Comet the sink because Maria doesn’t believe in Comet. She also doesn’t believe in bleach, removing fingerprints from stainless steel or stacking plates in a way that doesn’t look like a bunch of drunken Greeks just threw a wedding. She IS a wiz at all things related to dishwashers and dog hair (she showed me the rubber gloves trick) so she can stay.
If I practiced mindfulness before absolutely everything I did, I’d go mad. So if I’m advocating mindfulness — I guess I’m advocating madness. Good to know.
I think it’s pretty safe to say that most things I do are just to raise my own “joy ceiling.”
I brushed my teeth before the Skype for my own benefit. (I didn’t want to inadvertently gag), and out of respect for my friend I suppose.
I wear the false eyelashes during the week to sit and write because I love them. Not for other women. Not for anyone but me. Although…if a producer for Real Housewives of Studio City suddenly showed up—I’m camera ready.
And I have fresh breath.
And a sparkling clean sink.
And medium pit stubble. (I go to the dentist next week.)
Who do you do things for? Are you always mindful of what you do? Can you teach me that trait?
Carry on,
xox
