I started writing a different post, but it was too heartfelt and intense and was quickly deteriorating into something icky, so I filed it away for another day and I’m writing this one instead.

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I’m all about the coffee today.

I woke up to rain and a cold bathroom and a dismal view, and I miss my husband.

It’s not as nice drinking coffee by myself in the morning. The first cup, I mean. I like to share that one with him while he eats his eggs and checks his texts. I’m trying to break him of that habit. No phone at the table, I say. Not much progress yet, but anyway, coffee. I like sipping it hot and fresh while he texts and we chat.

The second cup, after he’s gone, is a peaceful, quiet meditation.

I’m missing my first cup of coffee time.

So I’m feeling a tad peevish. You know what I mean. Little things that I usually find mildly amusing are annoying the heck out of me. Like Facebook. I enjoy Facebook for lots of reasons. Connecting with people, seeing their pictures, admiring their crafts or their decorating or their food. And I’m not being snarky. I don’t care how many food pictures or tilty-kid pictures or sunrise pictures you post. I really don’t. I post them too, and I like them.

It’s all the memes and quotes and inspiration that is really starting to get under my skin. The borrowing of other people’s words, without any real meaningful internalization.

Does that sound bad?

It’s not that I don’t find them inspiring. Lots of them are. But how about this? How about if you post a Ghandi quote or a butterfly picture with a motivational saying, you add a comment explaining how this has made or is going to make a difference in your life. And I’ll do the same.

So, like, I post this quote… Never miss a chance to keep your mouth shut, by Robert Newton Peck.

First of all, I think it would be nice if I knew who Peck was, and if I didn’t, to take the time to find out that he is an American author, and that this quote comes from his classic coming-of-age novel, A Day No Pigs Would Die. And when I understood that these words were spoken by the father in the story, a quiet man who butchered pigs for a living, then the quote actually means something to me.

And then, after I posted the words on my status, I might say something like, Today, I will resist the temptation to go on and on at my children about the things I think they need to improve.

Consider yourself challenged.

Oops, I just realized the irony of using this quote as an example in a post where I am indeed going on and on. Oh well.

But really, I like Facebook. And I don’t have any kind of problem with instagram or pinterest or whatever online platform draws you in.

I instagram a lot. I think the lazy factor appeals to me. It’s the ultimate scrapbooking/journaling format for lazy people. Like me. I know, I know. I’ve read all the pushback stuff out there about the danger of instagramming your life, and how we only share the good stuff, and how pictures of your awesomely decorated living room are going to send me into waves of cute-decorated-home envy.

Don’t worry. I was already envious.

Let’s recap. So far, I’m against the flurry of inspirational posting on Facebook, but I’m in favour of coffee and online photo posting.

Okay, except for the selfie. I’m kind of over the selfie. But whatever.

But since I’m ranting…

Can I just say that all the different forms of public bathroom technology have me totally confused and a little bit stressed. How many times have I searched for a tap handle to turn, only to have a kind sink-neighbour demonstrate the hand-waving-under-the-faucet technique. And just when I gotten used to hand-waving, some of the newer bathrooms, like in Chapters in Regina, go and install the old style. With taps. Yep, I’m still waving and waiting, until the person waiting behind me to use the sink kindly points out the turny-things. Thanks, Chapters, for yet another hick-in-the-city memory for me.

And don’t get me started about the places they hide the soap. There are things to push or places to wave. I can’t tell you how often I’ve waved my hand like a crazy fool under the dispenser, only to finally pull away and watch the tardy drop of soap fall to the floor.

And the toilets? Who knew flushing could be so complicated. The automatic flushers are the worst. Lean forward to reach for the toilet paper dispenser, let your cheeks rise ever so slightly off the seat, and the smart toilet thinks you’ve left. Flush spray mist everywhere. Ew.

And the toilet paper dispensers? Who designed these things? The ones with the mammoth rolls of tissue-thin paper are the worst. You wiggle your fingers into the dispensing slot, trying not to think of all the other fingers that have been there, and do the two-fingered search for the end of the roll. After a few cycles you find it, and begin scratching off bits of the paper until you have a nice handful of confetti. Confetti in a bathroom just doesn’t cut it, people.

Oh my.

I do appreciate a public bathroom when I need one though. I’ll put up with toilet spray and confetti in an emergency.

Speaking of things I’ll put up with…

Carter and I are watching Star Trek Next Generation on Netflix. I did not remember how bad the first season is. We’re working our way through it, but Carter keeps asking if it gets better, and I keep assuring him it does. I sure hope it does. It’s been several years since I watched the series, but I remember loving it. I keep telling him that the first season of anything is usually not that great. Everyone is figuring their roles and such out, and it’s all a little stiff. So we’re putting up with it in the hopes that it will lay the foundation for the awesomeness that we are expecting in the following seasons. Fingers crossed.

Hmm, the kids are stirring and the coffee in my cup has cooled. Time to leave the words behind and do the day. Have a good one.

Thanks for listening.

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