I like to think I’m a rule follower. I’m not, but I like to think that.
I generally do what I’m supposed to do … but usually at the very last minute or by cutting corners. I think it was Duke Ellington who said something like, “If it weren’t for deadlines, I’d get nothing done.” Deadlines guide my life, as well.
In college, all-nighters were my go-to when I had a project due the next day. I often stayed up all night and raced the clock. I usually beat it with minutes to spare, sometimes not even minutes. I remember going to class in my pajamas with a long coat thrown over them, project in hand. The class was ending when I got there, but I was able to put my report on my professor’s desk as everyone was filing out of the classroom.
Another time, I took two classes simultaneously. This was before computers (early 1980s) logged all classes being taken and by whom. At the time, we filled out paper requests for classes. I requested one that met on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Then, after the semester started, I manually added a class that met on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. I alternated which class I’d attend on Fridays. I was very fortunate that neither class ever had tests on Fridays.
At my last job, my bosses didn’t especially care when I did my day’s work, as long as it was finished by the time they got to the office the next day at 9 a.m. I worked from home so, needless to say, I started work around midnight and hit “send” on my last assignment around 8:55 a.m. Then I’d go to bed for the day. If I had a daytime telephone meeting, I’d set an alarm and take the meeting from under my covers. There was no reason for me to work in the middle of the night, except for the fact that I could.
The other day I learned of an effort-saving hack that, as the English say, gobsmacked me. I don’t usually use English sayings, to avoid sounding affected, but gobsmacked is the perfect word to describe my reaction.
I belong to an online crocheting group. I’m not a good crocheter by any means, but that doesn’t stop me. Just ask my siblings, who have been the recipients of many really big, oddly shaped afghans.
Anyway, someone in the group commented that she had been crocheting for hours while sitting on her couch. She glanced at her Fitbit and found that it had registered 2,000 steps. After her post, the comments came rolling in. One woman had purportedly walked 5,000 steps while crocheting. Another never moved off her sofa for 12 hours and had logged 10,000 steps. Talk about shortcuts. You can now sit still for hours, just moving your wrists, and walk miles. If you’re tracking your steps to improve your health, however, you will probably choose not to boost your step count with a crochet hook. However, if you have a company or a busybody that logs your steps, you just might think about taking up crocheting. Or even knitting. That probably works, too.
I sometimes wonder if I’m going to make it to Heaven with all of my conniving. Then I decide that I definitely will since I haven’t done anything especially evil. After all, Jesus said there are many mansions in Heaven. I suspect that mine is going to be in a bad neighborhood on the wrong side of the railroad tracks. But, at least it’ll be a mansion.
Hopefully, it won’t be condemned.
Father Boccaccio told us that, in the Catholic Church, the Christmas season officially draws to a close on the day that Jesus was baptized. That date varies from year to year, and can extend to January 15 or so. He insists that no Christmas trees or decorations can be taken down until that day. He threatens to make surprise visits to our homes to check that our decorations are still up after January 1, but we all know that he won’t visit, just like he knows that our trees and holly will be long gone before the middle of January.
Depending on how far east they were, it could have taken them months, or years. But, if they were only a few miles east, they could have made it in time, star notwithstanding. However, nobody knows where they started from. I’ve heard stories that they showed up at Mary and Joseph’s house when Jesus was a toddler. Then again, the accepted story is that they were definitely at the stable at the same time that Jesus and His parents were.
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