In short!

It’s official. I’m turning into one of those porch hag old bitter ladies. You know the type, sitting in their rocker, looking out over their tiny front yard and angrily shaking their fist at the youngsters passing by al raucously, skirting too close to her gardenias. Now, with my talent for killing flowers I obviously

#IdowhatIwant

People like patterns. Routines. Set sequences of activities in hierarchical order executed at expected times during mapped out time-spans. We’re creatures of habit that way. Which is fine. It’s fine. Totally fine. Until it’s not fine. Until it becomes an imposition on the way you fill your days and the way you distribute your energy.