We
all have our quirks. Our habits. Our ways of doing things.
They are so much a part of our lives that we don�t always
realize that there are any alternatives.
It�s easy to assume that everyone else brushes their
teeth, ties their shoelaces and washes their cat the same way
you do. But here in the land of the free, we are free to
disagree.
Many people position the toilet paper so that it goes
against the wall. I don�t.
I know one family who thinks "room temperature"
means 55 - 60 degrees. I don�t.
My parents arrive at airports hours in advance of departing
(or arriving) flights. I don�t.
Yet the world doesn�t fall apart when you do something in
a way that differs from mine. And vice versa.
You might be the kind of person who recalls the exact cost
of a can of corn bought at Hannaford�s last week. Whereas I
can�t remember from aisle to aisle how much things cost.
Even when I�m carefully counting my pennies, wondering if I
have enough money to buy something, the price of the
borderline item is usually out of my brain by the time I get
home.
I don�t use coupons. I don�t have the time or patience
to clip, file and keep track of expiration dates. Besides, the
money I might save would probably be eaten up by the armloads
of unnecessary stuff I�d bring home. My house is already too
cluttered for that.
Do you know that there are people who round every entry in
their checkbook and never worry about balancing it? Although I�ve
closed more than one account because things were hopelessly
out of whack, I�ve never dared to be that cavalier with
numbers. It seems rebellious�like refusing to play by the
rules. (Sounds tempting.)
Are you the person who goes around turning lights on in the
house? Or the person turning them off?
Some people think soda is flat when carbonation goes below
volcanic levels, but I recently heard about someone who shakes
his two-liter bottles and slowly vents the carbonation until
it�s flatter than water. I�m more flexible when it comes
to bubbles, but I avoid drinking from my husband�s glass of
soda in because usually watered down from the amount of ice he
puts in. Even in winter. It makes my teeth chatter to think
about it.
Of course, he had to endure catsup stored in the
refrigerator for many years.
Not even Emily Post tackles this question: do you put the
salt in the shaker with bigger holes, or the pepper? Unless
your shakers have holes in "S" and "P"
designs, it seems to come down to personal preference of which
you want to come out faster. For me, that�s the pepper.
I have a friend who prefers to store her cups and glasses
upright in the cupboard. I put mine with the rim down. After
years of reaching for glasses in her apartments this
difference finally dawned on me when I helped her move and
volunteered to put glasses away in the new place.
Speaking of glasses, never leave an empty one unattended in
my mother�s house; if you walk away it might be in the
dishwasher by the time you get back.
We once rented a townhouse from a woman who expected us to
squeegee the fiberglass shower each day. Granted, she was
trying to sell the condo and hoped we�d keep it spotless in
case prospective buyers came along, but there are limits to
the tenant-landlord relationship. She once noted that we weren�t
keeping the microwave oven perfectly clean. We eventually
explained, nicely, that she would get the property back in the
condition she gave it to us.
Out on the road, I�m frustrated by drivers who stay in
the middle lane, no matter the traffic conditions. Still, I�ll
never understand those impatient drivers who comes up close on
another car�s bumper, even though they�ve seen the other
car for a mile or more.
I routinely leave caps off pens, yet I�m the person who
always makes sure the copier lid is down.
Like many women, I take points off for men who leave the
seat up.
I rarely read directions thoroughly, just scan them and
plunge in, confident that I can refer to the diagrams for
guidance. The text is just there if I run into trouble.
We all have our quirks. Our habits. Our accustomed ways of
doing things. I�ll accept yours, if you accept mine.
On the Bright Side
appears every other week in The Post-Star.