I’m writing with two dogs staring at me, one on either side.
It’s walk time, you see.
Dogs are such creatures of habit. They don’t know or care that I still have work to do. That they can wait a few minutes for me to post this.
They’re also good reminders of the importance of good habits. We brush our teeth at the same times every day. We (okay, I) drop my purse in the same spot every day, so I know where to find it. My keys are inside, in the same pocket, for the same reason.
I can live on autopilot, a creature propelled not by what I should do or want to, but simply out of inertia.
Why is it so hard to change a bad habit and so easy to fall out routine with a good habit? Skip brushing your teeth one night before bed, and test me. See if it’s not just a bit harder to brush the next night.
Now, they’re pawing at me. I have to go keep these creatures of habit in their safe rut.