Plastic Bowls and Other Proclivities

I’m learning how to slow down. We may as well add that to the list of things I am learning about myself. Coincidentally, learning how to slow down, and actually putting it into practice, is how I am also learning new things about myself. Some of these things you would think I would know by now, given that I am 43 years old. (This may turn into a series, TBD.) But, it is strange how little we know about ourselves, quite honestly. Part of being human is learning how to interact with other humans, and for most of us, that is how a good chunk of our waking life is spent: learning how to interact with other humans. We learn social norms, verbal and non-verbal cues that tell us how to act; we learn what we should say and do around other people, and we learn how to have a conversation and how to connect with others, even if it is just at the cash register of your corner coffee shop. What this means, however, is that we spend most of our lives, honestly, learning about how to exist, learning about other people, learning new skills, etc., but really zero time learning about ourselves. Which is why, at 42 years old, I learned that I don’t like using ceramic bowls and plates.

If given the choice between using a ceramic bowl or a plastic one, I will always choose plastic (or wooden, paper, just anything not ceramic-ey.) It really isn’t something I put much thought into- just an instinct, I guess. A preference. But then last year, I really started to think about this. Like. Why. And the reason is sound. I do not like the sound of ceramic bowls. Glass doesn’t seem to bother me as much, for some reason, perhaps the pitch is different, it doesn’t tickle the inside of my ear the same way. It doesn’t make me feel like gagging. Can I use ceramic? Of course. I’m not carrying my dinnerware to restaurants in a backpack like a weirdo. However, if you read my last post about embracing my weirdness, it wouldn’t be a stretch to start doing so. I think, though, that is really inconvenient, and I could probably attain the same level of comfort if I just brought plastic utensils, which essentially has the same affect- plastic utensils minimize the noise- and is far less cumbersome than lugging around bowls and plates everywhere I go. That is the winning combination- at least half of what I use being plastic. A plastic fork on a ceramic plate? Doesn’t make my skin crawl. A metal fork on a plastic plate? Safe. So, for Christmas I asked for a whole new set of plastic bowls (because also I like bowls better than plates and will eat out of a bowl whenever possible,) and because now I know that it isn’t just a preference, it truly is a matter of like versus dislike. I like plastic dinnerware and I do not like certain sounds.

I also just learned that I like nighttime showers far better than morning showers. For decades, I have taken my showers in the morning. That’s kind of the thing, right? As a kid you get nighttime baths, and as an adult, you take morning showers. And just last week I stopped to think about this and realized that yeah, no. I don’t enjoy morning showers. I prefer night showers. Which also just makes more sense. To me. I also don’t like morning workouts, so there is a connection here. A nighttime shower means A, I get to wash the day off of me and go to bed fresh and clean, and that somehow makes me sleep better. B, I’m not taking all the things to bed with me, and by things I mean, all the things I have touched during the day, the people I have hugged, the food I ate, the workout I did, the makeup I wore, the air from the grocery store… if I don’t shower at night, that allllll goes to bed with me and just sits in my sheets. If I shower before I get into bed, then I am clean, my sheets are clean. C, I have more free time in the morning. I like long mornings. I like sipping coffee, reading, scrolling, lounging for as long as possible. If I shower in the morning, that leaves me with less time to do all the other stuff, and since I put it off until the last minute, which I do every single morning, then I end up racing around like a crazy person, then I feel rushed which I do not like, and then I have to make decisions like, well, I need to wash my hair, but now I have to go to work with it wet, and I don’t like going to work with wet hair, so I guess I will wear my hair up or back, and do the same exact thing tomorrow morning. Guess what. At night? I can just wash my hair and it is not a big deal. I know some people prefer a shower in the morning to help them wake up, but you know what helps me wake up? Sleeping later and drinking coffee.

What is the point of all of this? Is that I am 43 and just told my husband last week, after an evening shower, “I think I really like night showers.” It is nothing I had ever thought about. I just took showers in the morning because, once again, that’s what “adults” do. Or whatever. It was just part of the morning routine. It is what every movie or TV show ever has said, this is what a morning as a grown-up looks like. So, I guess I just said, OK, I’ll do that too. None of this is to say I won’t take morning showers, but now that I am aware of this, and know what I like and why, I am much more inclined to make the time at night during the week, instead of just when I had a really sweaty workout or did some project that made me feel gross. Night showers are nice, and you don’t have to rush, and your sheets will thank you. I mean, or just do what you like. That’s fine too. But maybe you would find out, like I just did, that you like something you never even knew you liked!

Taking the time to figure out who you really are, what you really like, outside of what is expected of you, feels nice. I like getting to know myself as much as I like getting to know other people. Slowing down to ask myself questions, like I would if I were on a date with someone. A self-date. It’s… cool. And interesting. I feel like this most definitely could turn into a series, because there is still so much to learn, and I’m enjoying this phase of self-discovery. Not every discovery has to be profound. For example, finding out you like bread and butter pickles is still a discovery. Life changing? Probably not. But it is like a little piece of you that you get to add to your own puzzle, one plastic bowl at a time.