To Half and Half Not and Other Quirky Behaviors
Today I had a half way healthy lunch. I ordered a garden salad with a scoop of Chicken Curry. That was the healthy half. I also ordered a piece of carrot cake. That was the other half. Although, it WAS carrot cake, which is vegetable based cake, so it could have been worse. If you ever tasted Joy’s carrot cake, you would understand. It’s SOOO good! So stop judging me. Actually my husband refused to share his so I was forced to order one of my own.
It appears that I am a half-way person. I generally do things half-way. Like today I loaded my husband’s clothes into the dryer. But I didn’t turn it on. I do the same with the dirty dishes. I load the dishwasher, fill the cup with detergent, close the door and go out to water plants. Sometime later my husband opens the dishwasher to unload it only to find them still dirty. So he turns it on. He is used to my half way ways. He loves me anyways. You could say he is my better half. You could say he completes me. He completes my chores anyways.
Sometimes when I shower I shave one leg, or I shave two legs, but only the bottom or top half of each. I shit you not. I figure I’ll get around to the other half next shower session. I’m always hoping if I get in an accident, it will only injure the shaved half of me. I’m embarrassed by the idea of some studly young trauma center intern sewing up my hairy leg. Please God, let it be the shaved one. I do change my whole undies everyday though.
I don’t know if I have always been this way. I know as a kid when it was my turn to wash the dishes, I would rinse them and stack them neatly in the sink and then go do something else. My Mom, or sister, Judy Stepford as we lovingly call her, would generally put the dishes in the basin, fill it with soapy water and actually finish the job for me. They thought I was being a slacker and gave me shit for it. But I think it was more my half-way personality disorder that was to blame. I had every intention of doing those dishes, but I needed to do something else first. Like shave one of my legs. Is a half-way personality disorder as bad as a whole one? Half of me thinks yes and half of me thinks no, no way.
Generally speaking, on any given day, I only get about half of what I think I should be getting done, done. Half the time I’m standing around the house somewhere wondering why I just walked in that room, the other half I’m doing half a chore. Maybe I’m only getting one quarter of what I should be getting done, done. It’s really not a conscious thing at all. It just is what it is. I don’t know if it’s a real disorder or just a random quirk that I have. I wonder if there are half way houses for people with my disability?
I’ve read a couple of interesting posts lately by baby boomer gals like myself about the practice of shaving your private parts. I guess it’s the at home approach to a Brazilian. Apparently it is quite the norm for the young ladies now. None of us old broads do that unless we are being prepped for surgery. It’s just a little too much to ask of a girl is what we’re thinking. I’m not even gonna consider it, because I know what would happen. I would only do it half way. And as weird as I think a bare naked private area is on a grown woman, a half bare naked one is a whole lot weirder. Kind of like one of those asymmetrical hair cuts you see–usually on people with paint box blue or purple hair–with one side shaved close and the other side left long. That’s what my version would look like. Only not just blue or purple. It would definitely be half and half.
©2016 Ilona Elliott