Some of my habits have not only lived with me for years, they’ve spawned children:
- Licking the edge of the cup when there's spillage. Like foam from my latte. Several friends have called it disgusting, but I've noticed guys more so than girls.
- Untangling co-workers' telephone cords. Which as my friend rightly put, "would actually be a much appreciated gesture if it didn't come with that fucking judgmental look on your face."
- Pulling elevator pranks. One of my favourites:
Victim: 9 please.
Me: (presses said floor) Sorry, that floor is already taken.
- Saying 'Coooodie!' for no good reason. It's actually a permutation of my dog's name, Cuddles. How did it get from Cuddles to Coooodie? Fuck if I know.
- Making people say 'the' client. In my line of work, as in many others, the customer is all-powerful. But I've yet to work in a trade that raises them to such God-like status by dropping the 'The.' Colleagues write job briefs using sentences like ‘Client would like an alternative headline.’ It's even more grating in conversation: "But Client only has 80,000 to spend…" I've gotten (I admit, unreasonably) stubborn on this point and sometimes won't entertain revision requests unless they say 'the' client. And stop using an upper case 'C.'
- Some light self-mutilation. It's like how some people can't leave loose thread on jackets alone. I see a strip of skin, barely a millimeter wide and I'll tug it until it comes off, leaving a red gash. I do this for cuticles n my fingers and dry lips. Then I suck the blood.
- Looking at the spot where my big dog went to sleep for the last time. If I came home one day and find him there, I'd just hug him. I wouldn't even ask if he was real or how he came back. Ray, we miss you so much.
- Worrying if my car's locked. I always end up walking back and jiggling the handle.
- Worrying if I've flushed.
- Speaking in point form. Like so:
a) I have a dentist's appointment
b) You're the reason I HAVE a dentist's appointment
c) Bloody hell, if I knew sucker-punching people with the base of a nightstand lamp was your idea of 'hot' I wouldna slept with you in the first place. I mean dayum girl.
- Saying ‘yes’ to Mom’s coffee. In fact, lotsa times I come home from coffee with a friend or colleague and my mom goes ‘Would you like some coffee?’ It’s bad for me. It’s gonna make me piss like a racehorse. I’ve had 4 cups today already. And coffee stains teeth. Yes, Mom.
- Stockpiling name cards. I’m not one of those ‘let’s do lunch’ people. Well, to be specific, I’m not one of those say-let’s-do-lunch-but-I-know-I’ll-never-call-you people. If I say I’ll call you, you’ll get a call practically within the week. Also, any of my good friends will tell you – I’m horrible with social situations and about as warm and charming as a week-old sushi – so it’s not as if I call people up just to keep up the acquaintance. At the same time, I don’t even have the good habit of bringing my own cards out. I always change jobs with 2 full boxes of fresh cards that end up as bookmarks and reminder notes.
- Calling people 'babe.' This is regardless of gender. I have no idea what the guys think. This week, one of my friends wrote me an email to say ‘Is it ok if you stop calling me babe?’ I wrote back saying ‘Babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you. I won’t do it again. Listen babe, I gotta go. I’ll write you later k?’ Sigh.
To those of you giving up stuff for Lent, I’ve weaved some magic into this post so reading this automatically sends good vibes your way. Good on you, babe.