Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, September 8, 2020

I’ve known probably most of my life that rest along with nourishment and water are essential to my well-being. I knew from an early age that if I waited too long to eat, my fatigue caused me to lose my voice and strength. When I finally ate, I fell asleep while my body recharged on the fuel it received. That factor, I caught on fast.

The necessity for sleep took longer—years longer before it impacted me enough to take notice. Even then, it was hard to remember as I go, go, go. I’ve had a couple of friends call me the energizer bunny. Mark used to point out that I go until I run out of gas. True. All true. 

Do you ever get so busy in your zone that you don’t want to stop until you finished the task? Have you ever gotten into bad habits such as staying up too late and not getting enough sleep? How about not eating meals on time or waiting too long to eat? Then, not making the right food choices? That’s me—all of it. I tend to get into a funk when I have too much on my plate. It becomes a domino effect. I’m sure all of you busy people know what I mean. It’s a lesson I am continually learning. 

The last couple of weeks were crazy hectic ones for me, compiled with a lack of a good night’s rest plus all those vices I mentioned; I fell into a list of bads. Bad mood, bad decision-making, bad perspective, bad responses, and bad reactions to the simplest things. The domino effect was the catalyst into depression, which spiraled into a self-pity party. It’s interesting, but it usually seems when I’m in a funk like this one, that’s when I get invitations from friends even in quarantine! In a funk, I don’t want to be around people. Every little thing becomes an annoyance like the helicopter’s unceasing whirling hovering above, pushing my buttons. How long does it take a helicopter to fly by anyway? Everything cuts into my nerves like a newly sharpened knife. My words on paper become harsher, carrying the weight of my wounds, either real or imaginary. At that point, neither mattered. They had the same impact.

The interesting part is that you don’t know any of this until you get a good night’s rest and come out of it. For me, it takes more than one night before I get out of my rut. This time, it took me three nights. Then, suddenly, my eyes opened with a brightened mind and spirits. That’s when I saw the road I came off of and recognized the damage it did to me, and the damage I did in response, i.e., the domino effect. 

With a clear mind and refreshed spirits, I made a promise to myself to try, which is all I can do to maintain good life habits. I will strive to get a solid night’s sleep every day and eat healthy foods regularly to avoid falling prey to the domino effect bads.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, September 4, 2020

I have been living my dream—the writer’s life for the last few months. I can’t wait to hit the keys each day. It’s a dream in itself to love what you’re doing. It’s not always fun and games, though. I dread the nerve-wracking moments of what to write and whether I could pull it off. I’m not fond of losing sleep, flushing out story ideas either. In the end, it was worth it because I met my deadlines. 

Once I created a writing structure and posting on my site, I found a purpose to my day with self-imposed goals to accomplish. It’s a celebration at the end of the week, knowing that I succeeded in my plans.

Collecting gratification along the way didn’t hurt. It’s not a right but a privilege and is always welcomed and appreciated but not expected. Who doesn’t want praise? What makes it a commodity is that only a few would state their take on your work. Whether they enjoyed it or not is inconsequential. They read. They move on—end of story. I used to gravitate towards thinking ‘they hated it,’ but I realized that’s the wrong attitude because I don’t know that for sure. Over time, I learned I was right not to jump to conclusions. A few readers privately commented that they enjoyed my writing, but they never commented on my post. Not a problem. I appreciate their telling me just the same.

Getting feedback, whether good or bad, is nice and helpful, respectively. Positive feedback motivates me to keep doing what I’m doing. However useful it may be, negative feedback, regardless of the delivery and extremes, can be hard to swallow. Who wants to hear negative feedback? I expressed my displeasure when the newsletter editor for a column I wrote years ago edited my article. The head guy told me I needed to get a thicker skin. Ouch! He could use a crash course in Bedside Manner 101, but there was value in his advice. The problem is, I wear my feelings on my sleeve. No thicker skin armor can protect that area. All I could do is wear my armor and hope for the best.

I have been cruising down the strip for weeks with my new column added to my weekly blog and story showcase. I couldn’t be happier. Everything was going as planned until earlier this week when I received feedback from Person A that I didn’t expect to hear. 

Not often, but occasionally, someone would comment on my work, and it was always favorable. I have a close friend who knows me better than I know myself, who has my best interest at heart, and she is a fellow writer. She has, from time-to-time gently commented that a scene in my story didn’t work for her. I value her input. I consider her suggestions, and I may modify my work. Her specific edits are helpful and usually improves my story. 

The recent feedback from Person A left me conflicted, unsure of myself and my abilities, and dampened my joy. It was more than a single comment on a particular story; thus, it was impactful. I get it if my fiction was the problem. Not that I like hearing that, but that would, somehow, be a more straightforward fix because I could brush up on my creative writing skills. However, as far as my blog and column go, she was disinterested because it’s my memoir. I never thought of it that way. I wrote what I wanted to write. Period. “Nobody wants to read what you have to say,” flashed off in my mind.

Person A commented on a short fiction piece that it started off engaging until midway when I lost her due to too much description, and it took too long to reach the end. Once she got there, she thought the ending was well done, and she liked it. I was surprised to hear her review because I loved that story and thought it was the right amount of details to bring it to life. I asked another friend, Person Z, who commented that she was right there with the protagonist throughout the story and enjoyed it. She said this story worked for her, as is, and she wouldn’t change a thing. What do you do with this? One says one thing, and the other says another.

I contemplated Person A’s comments as I pulled myself up from the ditch of self-doubt, one rung at a time. I know she means well, but I don’t think she is a short story reader. It sounds like she is used to reading novels—two very different species. My take on this is to consider her suggestions, and if it helps, then perhaps I will use it.

The bottom line is that if I were to ask a dozen people, I might get a dozen different opinions. Do I edit base upon each person’s take? I can’t please everyone. I can only do my best.  

After starting my column, the line between my blog and column burred. Writing a daily column, a weekly blog, and a weekly short fiction is overwhelming. The good that arose from this conundrum caused me to reassess my game plan. I will take it slow while I figure out is it broke or not—what needs fixing and how to fix it.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, September 3, 2020

I had another late night yesterday. I swore I would turn in earlier. As disciplined as I am, I fail nightly. You see, a while ago, I discovered my phone’s music video app. It began as something to listen to while I got ready for bed. Until I noticed a pattern between washing for bed and lights out took about an hour and a half. It’s not a long walk from bathroom to bed, mind you. It’s more my finger swiping the phone screen with the intentions of “just one more song,” which leads to one more song followed by one more song—scrolling into the bottomless pit—my vice. My addictive button, which is usually turned down low, automatically soars to maximum when it comes to music. 

Oh, the many singers and bands I’ve met—performers I knew of but haven’t listened to—Bon Jovi, Adele, Tim McGraw. Artists like Keane, Coldplay, Eugent Bushpepa, and Alan Walker I haven’t heard of until my finger went scrolling. What a wonderful world opened up! I didn’t know what I was missing! Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain,” Tim’s “Lookin’ For That Girl,” Alan’s “Faded,” and the most recent, Coldplay’s “Yellow” resonant deep into my being. Playing in my head throughout the day. I can’t get them out of my mind, yet I want more! I search for other videos of the same song to mesmerize me further. If only there were a repeat button. 

Once the music starts, the head bobs, then the shoulders go up and down, and the body follows, and I lost control. I can’t complain, though. I add steps to my Fitbit while I brush my teeth. It’s a win-win. 

I’ve always had a soft spot for songs with a haunting sound that echoes through my being—lingering in my mind, controlling my mood, or raising nostalgic memories from a deep place. Songs have calmed my spirits and filled my soul with peace. Some took me on a journey into the unknown, where I don’t want to leave. I’ve cried with some and danced with others. Songs have inspired my stories.

My vote? I say music is my friend when it entertains me, engages me, and inspires me, but it’s my foe when it prevents me from turning in on time at night.

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, September 2, 2020

I’ve long been thinking about the day when I might face the dilemma of attending a formal event as a new single again, and that day arrived when I received a friend’s wedding save-the-date announcement. Don’t get me wrong. I am ecstatic for this couple’s upcoming celebration day, and I am delighted to witness this special event. It doesn’t change my dilemma, though. It has nothing to do with the happy couple or anybody else. It’s entirely me.

Since Mark’s passing, this isn’t the first formal invitation I’ve received. I received a last-minute wedding invitation less than a month after his demise. The wedding took place in San Jose. I exercised my first ‘Plus 0’ option for that event. Luckily for me, I had a couple of friends to attend with. It is a blessing having people who care about you. My good friends, Carol and Kyle, volunteered to carpool. They even offered a room at their house in Foster City for the night since we would be home late. I accepted their carpool offer but declined their warm hospitality to stay over.

The wedding officiated in the early afternoon, which meant the guests needed to loiter somewhere and return for the evening banquet. I spent the afternoon meandering around the Japanese shops in the San Jose area with another couple of good friends, Clarissa and Chris. It was nice but different. Mark and I used to socialize with these couples at one time or another, or the ladies and I hang out on a one-to-one basis, which we still do. Now, we hang out with me being the third wheel. Something I haven’t gotten used to yet. In any event, I enjoyed being with these friends. I appreciated their kindness in allowing me to join them.

At the dinner, the five of us were seated at the same table. It was nice. It would have been nicer had it been the three couples of us. There was another single at our table. She has been single for as long as I’ve known her, which means being a ‘Plus 0’ was her way of life. As the evening progressed, the lonesomeness crept in. I was having a good time, but that didn’t change my status quo. There is only so much your friends could do for you in a situation like this. Regardless of how hard they try to help you fit in, at some point, reality bites. For me, it was when my friends got up to take family photos among themselves, leaving me seated there alone at the large round table. The lonely feeling at that moment overwhelmed me. I wanted to run out of the restaurant and disappear. I don’t care to feel that loneliness again. I have a feeling I won’t get used to it.

Later in the year, I attended a Red Egg Baby Banquet, again as a ‘Plus 0’, but friends surrounded me. At this local party, it wasn’t as obvious who was a single or a couple. It didn’t matter. It was pure merriment every way you turned, and I had a grand time.

At those two events where I had friends attending, too, it didn’t matter that I responded with ‘Plus 0’, which easily could’ve been ‘Plus 2’, but this upcoming celebration, I know only the bride and her parents, which means all of them would be busy. I already feel the loneliness ahead. This wedding is taking place out of town, too—presenting yet another challenge for me. Situations like this one could be easily resolvable if Mark were here. Then I wouldn’t be in this dilemma.

That’s neither here nor there. I’m looking forward to this joyous occasion, but I am dreading my ‘Plus 0’ response.

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, September 1, 2020

I received an email from Nextdoor Orange Park announcing their Taco Tuesday Black Tie Affair for tonight, and I was surprised that there was a charge for participating in Taco Tuesday. It makes sense. It took me by surprise, though, because I’ve never taken part in Taco Tuesday. I’ve heard of it mainly because Taco Tuesday was a favorite event that Mark enjoyed through his real estate connections. 

I had assumed that Taco Tuesday was a free event. Maybe it was free since fellow real estate members sponsored it. I thought that it was free because Mark attended on his own during his workday, and he had never invited me to join him. I figured the reason he didn’t ask me was that it wasn’t right to bring your wife just because it was free food. If he had to pay, I’m sure occasionally he would have invited me to tag along. Although most Mexican vendors sprinkle cilantro into everything, and I abhor cilantro, making it a challenge to dine at an unfamiliar venue. It could’ve been his attempt to spare me from the nasty cilantro.

I wish he were here so I could ask him about his Taco Tuesdays. Did they charge for the events he attended? Why didn’t he invite me sometimes? Was it because he was trying to be thoughtful and spare me from cilantro? Or did he not think about it? Or was it only for real estate agents? It’s not a big deal, but this incident made me realize that I’ve been telling people I don’t take anything for granted. It’s true. I sincerely try not to, and I thought I was following my own rule, but I fell short in this case. I took Mark’s day-to-day for granted. I should have appreciated him more by asking him about his daily goings-on instead of assuming. 

I’m sure this incident is one of many, but I don’t know what I don’t know. I do know that, just around the house, as much as I tried to get us cross-trained with the many tasks that we each took care of, there is still much he took care of that I inadvertently took for granted until it became my chore.

We have all taken things for granted at one time or another, whether we know it. I am sure, though, that it wasn’t on purpose. All we can do is try not to do that too often. Knowing what I know now, I have to recant by saying that I try not to take anything for granted, and that’s all that I can do—is try.

A Moment in My Life – Monday, August 31, 2020

Is it really the last day of August? My sister-in-law and her family used to host an end-of-summer-BBQ every year, which was a lot of fun. What I didn’t like about it was that they would send out the invitation in June. I remember the panic that shot through my core as I read the invitations and the words that shot out from my mouth, “What! End-of-summer? My summer hasn’t even started yet. What do you mean ‘end of summer’?” Summers flash by so quickly already. The thought of summer ending before it started was alarming and not a good feeling. Like it or not, here we are—the end of summer—for real. 

When I was in school, school always began the Wednesday following Labor Day. I still live according to that schedule. Hearing kids return to school during August seems sacrilegious. Worse yet, for those poor kids returning to school in the middle of July! To me, summertime is sacred, regardless of how you cut it. I like the flip side of this coin, though, when those same kids get out of school earlier than June. In the end, it all works out, I suppose. It’s a matter of getting used to whichever schedule you have. 

Today, I decided to do something different and reflect on this month that ends tonight. It was a fast and full month with little lag time. I tend to have a slush pile of ‘to-do’s’ guaranteeing that I have zero opportunity for boredom. 

I remember my first sabbatical from Schwab. We were entitled to one month off per five years of service. I was too busy ‘being a good employee’ to bother with taking time off until year 17. By then, HR allowed me to take two months off back-to-back to catch up. Oh, so exciting! Two whooping months off! Wow! I didn’t want to squander a second of it. I meticulously planned out 22 items on my To-Do List and charted the tasks out on my calendar before my sabbatical arrived. At the end of my time off, I checked off 17 of the 22 items. I was disappointed that I didn’t accomplish all 22 things, but it was great when I compared my time off with a coworker who became bored out of her skull after two weeks of her one-month sabbatical. I never understood how someone could have nothing to do and was so bored that she wanted to return to work, but that’s just me.

In reflecting on August, I’m glad that I had only one massive project to handle. Thank God, my refrigerator problem was in July before I had the gate problem to deal with this month. Since July, the gate problem has been on-going, but it didn’t become an issue that I had to deal with until August.

This summer, my next-door neighbor decided to replace his side gate. While he was at it, he changed the direction his gate opens. Initially, both of our gates hinged on the beam that supported our shared fence. Once he removed his gate from the beam, there wasn’t enough weight to anchor down that beam, which caused the beam to lean towards my gate’s weight. This lazy beam caused my gate to fall out of alignment, creating a challenge every time I opened and closed my gate. My neighbor attempted to correct this, but in the end, replacing my gate was the best solution. 

Disposing of the gate was the big to-do. I used one of my two free Scavenger annual bulky item pickups. It made sense to maximize this pickup. The only bulky things I had were tree stakes. We cut loose five of them and left them lying next to the house where they’ve been comfortable for years. I went around and released the remaining stakes from their employment, where they have been pretending to hold the matured trees in place for two decades. 

These stakes created my dilemma, which my new gardener, Mike, resolved when he helped me cut the 7-9 feet stakes down to size for disposal. This task, along with the on-going irrigation problem, is helping Mike and me forge a rapport.

Then, there was my Microsoft problem that needed my attention. I was thrilled to get my Microsoft Office working again and finally rid of Office 365 and its pesky constant renewal reminders. I knew I couldn’t live without Word, but without it, it was handicapping at best.

August will always have a warm spot in my heart as this was the month I launched my daily column, ‘A Moment in My Life,’ and it was the first month I completed 18 essays in one month. I’ve completed a novel in a month, but that was one long story, not 18 different ones.

I was never much of a phone person, but this month I spent a good chunk of time talking on the phone and more FaceTime moments than ever before. Oh, I almost forgot the Zoom calls. Thanks to the modern conveniences, the only part of socializing I missed was the part where we were face-to-face eating together. I’m grateful I get to continue chatting with people via social media and the phone.

Finally, the last high point for the month, I partnered with my niece Kathy on working out with the Bodygym. We’ve just started it and loved it so far. Cables were my favorite machines at the gym. The only things I missed about going to the gym were using the cables and the friends I made there. 

I’m sad that August is coming to an end. It served me well, though, even with the unpredictable weather, which fits right in with this unforeseeable 2020. It was an August not to forget with the unseasonable heatwave, the tropical thunderstorms, the numerous fires, and the quick reopen and even faster business closures due to Covid-19. With that said, I’m glad August is over, and I’m looking forward to September, which I expect will bring blessings, healings, restoration, and hope.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, August 28, 2020

I did my best to ignore the unimpressive grey and gloomy day that has attempted all week to get my attention, but it wasn’t doing a good job. It was oblivious to what piques my fancy. It finally got it when the looming gloom humbly slipped away as the stunning sunshine waltzed in. In one gigantic stretch, the sun warmed the earth, and my demeanor, with its rays, and I looked up and smiled. 

I felt energized, and for the time since Shelter in Place began, I wanted to go out and do something. Do anything! Go somewhere. Go anywhere! I wanted to meet up with someone and banter for hours as we enjoy a yummy meal in a restaurant as we did before Shelter in Place. I know I’m not alone. Others have gone down this path as early as weeks after quarantine began, I am now, five months later. Better late than never, I suppose. 

I took advantage of the quarantine time by maximizing my productivity. Being a hermit was the only way to scratch the surface. I still have a lot of work to do, which surprised me when I got this desire to have fun. I shouldn’t be surprised because socializing was an essential part of my life. I expected, at some point, I would miss living life. When I got the urge to go out and live again, I was stumped as I checked off my options list. Where to go? Nowhere. Who to go with? Nobody. What to do? Nothing. What a damper that was! The world is not the same now, crave all I want, and it won’t change the fickle new norm. Instead, I nestled up with my MacBook and got back to writing. 

Living as close to the coast as I do, seasonal overcast is no surprise. I could drive down south a few miles and steal some sunshine, which I know I’ll run into by the time I reach San Bruno. It amazes me when I’m driving along, and as different as day and night, the gloom and chill vanishes, and it’s sunny and warm. It’s as if I went through an invisible curtain.  

I’m glad that I haven’t acclimated to being a hermit so much that I’ve become a recluse.  I’m happy that I do desire to go back out into the world and live again. Although I can’t quite do that yet, I am determined to go out today and venture past that invisible curtain and steal a pocket of sunshine for myself. I don’t have to do anything or be with anybody, for now, but I will enjoy some sunshine. I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. We are, after all, in this together.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, August 27, 2020

“Oh, look! Here comes the street cleaner!” I said to whoever was listening. Oh, that would be me. I jumped out of my chair and raced up to my window, positioning myself for the best view behind the cherry blossom tree in my front yard as the Scavenger driver meticulously inched his way towards my house. I felt the excitement culminate as the truck got closer and closer. I witnessed the giant brushes spinning around under the truck as the debris on the street vanished before my eyes. I continued watching the truck after it passed by until he was out of sight. The driver literally did a clean sweep, and then, he was gone. I stood planted at the window with my eyes staring where the truck’s image was last seen and began laughing at myself, as I felt like a kid who had never seen a street cleaner before.

Remember the early weeks when Shelter in Place began as we acclimated to the quarantine, and we relied heavily on deliveries? It was a crazy time when nobody knew what would happen tomorrow. The uncertainties brought out the hoarding in people. People were wiping down the groceries that came home with them. We were Spic n Spanning everything. We had never been a cleaner society. We probably had never relied on deliveries as much as we did during the early part of the Pandemic. I know I had never seen so many delivery trucks on my street as I did then. 

I remember seeing a FedEx truck approaching from the other end of my street one day. I jumped up and raced to the window with my eyes fixated on that truck. My hands clasped in front of my mouth as I marveled at it like I was waiting for Santa to hand me my present. “Here it comes!” I was dancing in place, and a moment later, my shoulders dropped with my demeanor. “And, there it goes.” What had the Pandemic done to me?

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I believe that it was the need for people interaction that caused me to respond like that to the delivery truck. It’s crazy, but on Facebook, I read about how others reacted similarly to seeing a delivery truck on their street, too. Who’d think that the anonymous delivery driver would become our temporary best friends?

These memories always remind me of my friend Dwayne, who was this giant token white guy amongst a community of little Asian people during his early ministry days in Korea. He shared that he became one of the locals, and it no longer mattered that he was the only red-headed white guy there. This story amazes me every time I think of it. How we look, honestly, doesn’t matter once we get past our appearances. We can assimilate into the community like everybody else. One day, a Caucasian visitor showed up. Dwayne jumped up and gawked at the stranger right alongside the Korean people who were with him. It was a long time since he had seen a white guy other than the one in his mirror. He was as excited and intrigued as the rest of them. 

The good thing about our current circumstances is that it offers us a fresh take on the same view that we might otherwise have considered mundane. We grew up way too quickly—too eager to be grownups. Along with that eagerness, we forget what it was like being a kid when everything was new. We forget about the excitement of seeing things for the first time. I’m not crazy about being quarantined, but I am grateful that because of it, I get to see these everyday things again but through eyes like a child.

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, August 26, 2020

“Hi, my name is Jeannie, and I’m a creature of habit.” Are there others of you out there? Come on over. Don’t be shy. The party is about to begin.

I’ve had people laugh at me when they learned that I parked in the same area and even took the same parking space at Bart every day if that was possible. I got on the same Bart car, and I sat in the same seat. I’d imagine shooting darts at the person who might have taken my seat. Don’t worry. I’m not Adrian Monk. I prefer the same spots, but I won’t shoot real darts or force the person out of my space if I didn’t get my way. 

Looking back to my corporate days, I can laugh now, but I tell you that it was nerve-racking back then. Almost every day, I forced myself out of my comfort zone to fit into the company to keep my job. Don’t get me wrong. I loved the company, and I loved what I did, and they loved me. They didn’t know that I was a double agent, though. I was an ideal employee (in my humble opinion) who adapted well to change on the surface. Yet, beneath the surface, I was a heart attack waiting to happen, fretting over the potential change that they might announce that day. It was tough for someone who didn’t like change while working in a company whose motto thrived on change and diversity. It seemed like as soon as I began getting used to something, they changed it. Although I resisted change, however, on the flip side of the coin, I learned many new things that I wouldn’t have known had I not been forced down that path. Skillsets and applications that carry into my personal life that branches out to other areas like church and social events. Did that make adapting to change any easier? No, I don’t think so. Do I appreciate it? Most definitely.

It’s like parents forcing their kids to eat vegetables. Regardless of how appealing mom makes them look, it doesn’t make it easier for the kid to eat it. Do they appreciate it? Maybe not at the moment, but in the long run, I’m sure they did. That’s me, in this scenario.

I remember when one of my bosses kept encouraging me to use OneNote. I resisted forever, but once I began using it, it became my best friend for life. I rely heavily on it every day. Last year, one of my favorite authors, Jessica Brody, introduced me to the OneNote competitor, Evernote, as an excellent application for our writing life. At first, I was determined not to add another app to my collection. I was satisfied with OneNote, and to prove it, my OneNote contains an overwhelming amount of data. When I launched my writing career, I took Jessica up on her suggestion and incorporated Evernote for my business application. It has worked out beautifully for me, and it has already gotten an overwhelming amount of data. I think I might be a data hoard. Let’s keep that our secret, okay?

When Shelter in Place began, I resisted joining Zoom calls, but ultimately gave in to it when everybody was using it. Now, I love meetings via Zoom. What a great way to connect without the hassle of the commute, traffic, parking, or weather constraints! I love it. I almost dread returning to live meetings.

The other night, my friend Carol and I talked about a project where we would share a spreadsheet. My inclination was Excel, but she suggested using Sheets, which simplifies the sharing process. Granted, I have a Gmail account; however, I reply on my Mac Outlook and never open Gmail. I had no clue about the cool apps that come with my account. One day, my friend, Lily, suggested using Hangouts for our chat, but she accommodated me by using Facetime, which I was more familiar with. Now that Carol broadened my horizons, I’ll be venturing around in Google if you’re looking for me.

I don’t need to buy the newest or latest toys. I’m not particularly eager to change things unless they quit working for me, and it forces me to make the change. The good news is that I do like learning new things that can improve my life. When I find something that works, I am good. I am grateful that I live in the here and now when we have an abundance of choices that enrich our lives. There are ample opportunities to learn new things, and as I learn more, I think it is easier to adapt, but that’s not the same as change. That’s what it is—the reason I enjoy learning new things is that it’s not change, per se. Okay, phew, had me second-guessing myself for the moment. No worries. I’m still a creature of habit.

After having experienced many incidents where I resisted but ended up rewarded for having given in to change, you’d think that I would welcome it now. I can honestly tell you; no. A creature of habit will always be a creature of habit. Still, I’m not too fond of change, but I adapt and probably end up loving it. I can guarantee that I will always be that creature of habit. Anybody else the same way?