predictably boring

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I went to see my hairdresser this morning for my regular self-harming session whereby I spend forty-five minutes sitting in front of a mirror hating my reflection. As she washed my hair she began the ritualistic hairdressing small talk which all beauty-minded folk are exceptionally good at. What are you seeing at the cinema today then? she asked. I laughed. Am I really that predictable? And yes, it transpires that I am. I have often thought of myself as an old soul trapped in a young mind {I wanted to say body but I'm getting a tad too saggy and wrinkled for that}. You may keep your spontaneity. Pick up your impulsiveness and remove it from my presence. Take your roaming adventurer hands away from me! I'm a lover of routine, a friend of ritualistic behaviour and a puppy dog on a lead, rarely venturing to unknown and mysterious places. But does this make me boring? I don't think so. Routines and rituals keep me sane. Unknown and mysterious places or events need to be meticulously planned for, days in advance. Spontaneity can be achieved, but only in the presence of good friends and a comforting aura. Impulse is a word I associate with shopping, not with breaking up my day and changing my plans at a moment's notice. I felt a little bit silly and boring when my hairdresser asked me about the cinema. And then I realised that it's okay. I'm allowed to live my life the way I want to. As long as I'm happy and safe, does it really matter what other people think? I shouldn't need to apologise for enjoying seeing films at the cinema, for cuddles on the settee on a Saturday afternoon with tea, doughnuts and the tellybox, or for finding comfort from my morning routine. And on Monday I shall go to work and what shall the first question be? How was your weekend? What shall the response be? Fine thanks, and yours? That's it. None of us really care, do we? We think people judge us by our social activities, but they don't. Unless, you know, they're a tad risqué or downright weird, and even then we might just wish we had it in us to have a go at that too. It's Sunday tomorrow. Sunday rituals include preparations for a week of work. Tellybox watching. Laziness. A lie-in. Morning coffee in bed. Bed by ten. Sleep by midnight, if I'm lucky. Perfectly and predictably lovely.