Consistency or: How I learned to stop worrying and love beer.

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November 25, 2011 by agooddaytoyou

XXX BITTERI’m inconsistent. I have difficulty sticking to routines. I have trouble focusing on a single task long enough to see it to fruition. And I tend to buck against the very notion of order or control in my life. This is why I dropped out of high school, and finished my HSC/OP at Tafe. If I’m going to have order, it’s going to be on my terms.

And so another Friday rolls around, and I would like to be doing anything but writing this. Because it’s 10:30pm now, and I’m sitting in a hot bath typing this on my iPad while Men In Black is playing in the other room. Because it’s Friday, and I already did this once. Has it really been a week already?

Every Friday, probably 11 or 12 years ago, – and early into my working life and life in Queensland – we used to have a work tradition (of course if you’d labeled it a tradition it would have ended then and there – it was just a thing we did). Every Friday after work we used to go to the Paddo Tavern (a boganish pub in Paddinginton, Brisbane – just outside of the inner city). They had a Friday BBQ (steak sandwich if I recall – or maybe just a sausage with onions on a single fold of white bread – enough to line your gut, anyway) and you could get 4 tickets for the BBQ with a jug of XXXX beer.

I didn’t like beer at the time and looking back now it not hard to see why. XXXX is a terrible beer. But – every Friday we’d be there, and every Friday I’d glug down hard that first pint of XXXX then let a few more in until we were all unable to function properly or until our respective partners called us home.

Eventually I liked it. But it was the routine of it that got me through that initial desire to vomit (a desire which would sometimes be met later in the evening).

You see – as much as I reject routine – it is only with consistency that I am able to achieve anything. And I do actually strive to maintain consistency in my life. When I get home I like to put my keys in the same place, throw my change in the same bowl, my wallet and phone by my bed at night. If I’m stuck for something to do (or faced with the prospect of having to do something) I take a bath and sit in the water playing with my iPhone or iPad. I very easily fall into a monotonous routine if left to my own devices. But it’s not an incredibly productive one. The money piles up and my bathtub gets a ring around it.

It’s the boring little things that undo me – the laundry and the kitchen – I have a high tolerance for not doing them – but I know when I do them I’m going to do them all the way. I’ll do eight loads of washing on a single weekend out of eight weekends rather than one once a week. So I have so much “spare time” to do my work I don’t know what do do with myself – and rather than make the choice I’ll choose to have a second or third bath, watch another movie – fire up a game I’ve played a bunch of times rather than starting a new one. Because that’s too much work.

Routine is the cure for this – get that boring shit out of the way – get that exciting shit under way. How can I justify fiddling with another t-shirt design when the bed sheets need changing? So I do neither and just scroll scroll scroll through Tumblr, Twitter, Reddit and Facebook.

After about half a year of XXXX I discovered VB – another garbage beer but in a world of only two beers clearly the superior. Then, in about 2001, I discovered ‘foreign beer’ – and that was that, really. So now I’m drinking a Peroni, sitting in a tub of quickly cooling water and – like last week – typing my Friday blog post about typing my Friday blog post.

Hey, at least I’m consistent.

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