It is the day after traveling from Aloe House (North Caicos) to Aloe House North (Richmond), and I am trying to re-establish my "up here" habits. These are things I don't do on the island, for various reasons: composting, recycling, scooping litter, reading a newspaper.
I also have island habits that I'm leaving behind. Up here I don't practice my water conservation by leaving the breakfast dishwater until I've finished the lunch dishes or by flushing only every other time. Nor do I fill a bag with ice from five trays (the machine takes care of that) or open my doors to the outside every morning.
Of course, there are plenty of daily habits that I keep in both places, such as making coffee in the morning or taking a walk. I am, indeed, a creature of habit, though not a slave to them. (I can, for example, eat a hamburger on bread or pita or even plain when there are no buns, unlike some I know.)
I do, however, fall on the side of habit more often than randomness. This I realized while in a habit transition zone - air travel. In the airports, my habitual people-watching helped me see a difference between those who are travelers of habit and those who are not.
The former are organized and quiet. They read or tap on their IPhones, knowing in advance what zone they're in for boarding and where their passports are. If they're parents, their carry-ons handle every child contingency, from snacks to games to moist towelettes. They are decisive in drink and food orders, yet flexible enough to switch to Corona when there's no Heineken.
The habitless, the disorganized, face a thousand crises per minute. Where did you put the kids' passports? Wait, I can't board now; I have to go to the bathroom. I thought you called the taxi. Honey, I don't think they have pretzel sticks. What gate again?
You know - the kind of people who drive you nuts. Unless you are one of them.
Yes, I'm definitely on the side of those with habits. Though I must say, the others certainly provide entertainment. And, of course, material for writing.
I also have island habits that I'm leaving behind. Up here I don't practice my water conservation by leaving the breakfast dishwater until I've finished the lunch dishes or by flushing only every other time. Nor do I fill a bag with ice from five trays (the machine takes care of that) or open my doors to the outside every morning.
Of course, there are plenty of daily habits that I keep in both places, such as making coffee in the morning or taking a walk. I am, indeed, a creature of habit, though not a slave to them. (I can, for example, eat a hamburger on bread or pita or even plain when there are no buns, unlike some I know.)
I do, however, fall on the side of habit more often than randomness. This I realized while in a habit transition zone - air travel. In the airports, my habitual people-watching helped me see a difference between those who are travelers of habit and those who are not.
The former are organized and quiet. They read or tap on their IPhones, knowing in advance what zone they're in for boarding and where their passports are. If they're parents, their carry-ons handle every child contingency, from snacks to games to moist towelettes. They are decisive in drink and food orders, yet flexible enough to switch to Corona when there's no Heineken.
The habitless, the disorganized, face a thousand crises per minute. Where did you put the kids' passports? Wait, I can't board now; I have to go to the bathroom. I thought you called the taxi. Honey, I don't think they have pretzel sticks. What gate again?
You know - the kind of people who drive you nuts. Unless you are one of them.
Yes, I'm definitely on the side of those with habits. Though I must say, the others certainly provide entertainment. And, of course, material for writing.