Living without habits

It's much better now than it was at first, but living without habits is exhausting! Yesterday morning, I forgot to take my pills. I thought I had set up a system, vastly superior to what I did in the condo. I bought this seven-day two-tier pill box, places to put morning and evening pills for each day of the week, morning pills in the yellow side, evening pills in the blue side, what could go wrong?

Lack of habits. I forgot to look for the pill box, which was in plain sight.

I know, not a really big deal, people forget things all the time, especially people in a residential community whose youngest member is 62. But dang! It is such a good system. And its only shortcoming is that I have to consciously remember to use it.

It's like typing this sentence. I don't think about what my fingers are doing, I just generate prose, and my hands and fingers know how to turn the prose concepts into letters and words and punctuation without my having to figure out how to get each bit from my head to the keyboard.

I'm not an organized person in the first place, I often make it up as I go along. But I am appreciating how much having set habits eases things. If I were an organized person, I suppose I would set out to define and acquire the missing habits, practicing, scheduling, checking things off on lists, going to bed justified in the secure knowledge that my life is under control. The way disorganized people form habits is by bumping into things until either calluses form or bruises make the bumping so uncomfortable that it is actively avoided.

Ah well, as I said, it's better now than it was two weeks ago.

Dang! Two weeks! I've been here two weeks. And I have yet to gather the courage to get my free dinner in the restaurant. I'll have to pick up a menu and see what's cooking.