Have you ever been addicted to anything, or worried that you were? Have you ever spent too much time and effort on something that was a distraction from your real goals? Tell us about it.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us ADDICTING.
One of my newest addictions is buying orchids, those lovely flowers that rarely seem to die. If they do, just buy another one, but repot the old one and cross your fingers that it will throw a branch of flowers out again sometime in the future; hence the fact that I am now the proud possessor of six. I had five, but one of them died out and gave birth to a twin, so I planted the twin as well. OK, they had a special offer at the supermarket and every time I came home from shopping I had adopted a new colour, size and shape. Thank goodness Mr. Swiss likes orchids. On the other hand I had to throw my ficus Benjamin away. It was taking charge of the living room. I think it became possessed. When I walked past it shook its leaves and just to punish me they turned yellow and threw up onto the floor (or should I have given some water). Orchids are much more peaceful, no stress, just once a week a little water, once a month food (I was thinking of dried blood) but it seems the liquid fertiliser is enough.
I am digressing: me an addict, where do you get that idea? I sit on my computer regularly every afternoon and write a daily prompt. That is a brain exercise and has nothing to do with chewing my fingernails if it does not arrive. Although I do tend to spread the word by blog on the rare occasions when the yesterday daily prompt is at the top of the list, complaining where the today daily prompt is. I worry about my daily prompt people.
Was I addicted to cigarettes? Of course not, I just smoked a packet a day for many years. I spared the lives of my children developing in a smoke filled womb, as they were the cigarette breaks I took in between. At the age of fifty I decided to rid myself of this habit, not really for health reasons, but my financial situation was suffering and humanity decided to call out a war against the smoke filled restaurants, trains, planes and environment. No problem, after all I was not an addict, just did it to pass the time. After a week of reduction, I had reduced to five a day and Saturday arrived. If you get through the week-end without a coffin nail, then you have arrived. I did it, despite the fact that my supply of chewing gum was finished and from the following Monday, after a weeks of chewing fingernails, I arrived. Smoke free now for the last fifteen years and more money to spend on the next addiction.
I remember a special peppermint known as Fisherman’s Friend. My boss at work liked them, Mr. Swiss had one now and again and I loved them, especially the strongest sort. After they entered your mouth the whole head seemed to have a shock wave of minty air finding every nook and cranny. One day I realised my consumption was almost as strong as the mint taste and decided I was on the edge of a Fisherman’s Friend addiction. Having no Fisherman’s Friend Anonymous in the area, I did a cold turkey. At first I decided only two during the morning, at 9 o’clock and 11 o’clock and two in the afternoon. After a day I was reduced to one during the morning and one in the afternoon and at the end of the week my boss was almost disappointed when I did not accept his offer to partake in a joint Fisherman’s Friend indulgence. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss no longer bought them and so the temptation was banned from the scene.
A favourite addiction, over years, was that something would be missing during the evening without a snack of salted peanuts, potato chips, or cheese crackers. It was just plain boring to watch the TV or read a book without some other type of entertainment. Needless to say my waist line expanded moving further Southwards, my blood sugar rose to astonishing levels (not yet on the needle) and it seems my addiction (no, it was not an addiction, just occupational therapy) was affecting others. Sitting next to someone munching happily all the time seems to be a temptation, others even become addicts, it was contagious. I do not know why, but through some untold reason, perhaps I had a dream of being chased by a man eating peanut, or being squashed by two potato chips, I gave this up. There was a side line to this addiction. Thirst became apparent so I washed this cholesterol spree down with a nice glass of cold Coca Cola. I forgot to mention, I take an anti-cholesterol tablet every day. My doctor did tell me that these tablets are not just for now, but forever.
You would think I must now be the healthiest person alive after withdrawal from these various occupational hazards of life. Forget it, but buying orchids seems to be the least dangerous habit to develop, especially if they are on special offer.
Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough
- The Beauty of Autumn (Addicting) | photo potpourri
- The Life of a Spoon Dealer – By: NCBEK | Incessant Ramblings
- The Key | Muddy River Muse