Cinderella’s Inbox

I don’t know if this should eventually become a feature of it’s own, like “That’s So Quirky” or something, but I have so, so many quirks and superstitions that I observe.

I’m not OCD in the least (at least in the medical sense) nor traditionally superstitious (my show is opening next Friday, the 13th, and I’m already anticipating the flurry of theatre superstition that will be surrounding me, but I’m not really fazed) but there are some things that I do that I’ve never thought are weird, or am just realizing in my adulthood that are not normal behaviors. Little quirks and kinks that just kind of creep up on me, or things I’ve been doing forever. Some of them include turning around; the numbers 4, 6, 8, 10, 14 and 21 (some of which are lucky, and some unlucky); four-way stops/hallways; staircases with holes; furnaces; not drinking Fanta or Pepsi; sock/sock/shoe/shoe; and holding my breath while driving past police cars.

One more recent superstition that I’ve been following is one I’m calling Cinderella’s Inbox. This means no checking my inbox after midnight. This applies mostly to my school inbox; sometimes I check my personal email after midnight, but I try not to so I won’t get wound up in emails. Part of the reason for this is that I want/need to go to bed at a decent hour. The other part of it is if I get an email after midnight that gets me upset or anxious or worried then I’ll either a) stay awake, on the couch, pondering, or b) stare at the ceiling in my darkened bedroom until dawn. Usually a message that comes between midnight and morning is spam or some sort of mass email. If it’s an email from a professor or another student, I usually use the excuse that I was asleep, which is sometimes true and sometimes not. Let’s face it: it’s 2015. If you’re awake, you’re never far from your inbox. At least I feel like that; unless I’m driving or in the shower, I’m nearby. And before you ask, yes, I have walked into things reading emails and sometimes I read emails on the toilet (but who doesn’t)? Still, netiquette (wtf who uses that word anymore?) does still dictate that if it’s not an hour when you’d normally answer your phone, it’s acceptable to not read/respond to emails sent at that time as well. At least that’s the way it should be.

So yeah, if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. And if you wanna reach me, hit me up before midnight.

Unless it’s via commenting on my blog, which is open 24/7 for your convenience.

And speaking of convenience, I’ve proudly served 6 continents today. Shout-out to all my customers: North America (Canada and USA), South America (Colombia, Chile and Ecuador), Europe (UK, Spain, Turkey and Ukraine), Asia (Israel, Hong Kong, and Singapore), Africa (Ethiopia), and Oceania (Australia and New Zealand).


Things I Like and Don’t Like About Cleaning

Much like Carol Channing’s famous monologue from Free to Be… You & Me, I hate housework.


Well, most of the time.

So of course, instead of spending last night and today on my homework, I spent the majority of the day cleaning my apartment.

Things I Like About Cleaning

  1. I like doing laundry. Like…I really like it. The smell of dryer sheets and clean clothes. The joy of watching stains disappear. The fact that I can fold clothes and watch TV/listen to music/talk on the phone/read at the same time. Feeling like a champion with a freshly organized closet and/or drawer.
  2. I like the pristine look of things the second that they are clean. Of course, then you have to stand, sit, spill, stain, and shove stuff on it, but for a second, it’s like a catalog.
  3. I like giving (and having) the illusion that my apartment is that clean, 100% of the time.
  4. A clutterless counter or table top is perfect for all kinds of ACTIVITIES.

Things I Don’t Like About Cleaning

  1. Dishes. Everything about them.
  2. Folding fitted sheets. We send a man to outer space and make a phone that’s thinner than a slice of bread but no one has figured out a foolproof way to fold a fitted sheet.
  3. Looking for things that were easily found in the mess, and having to wreck your whole apartment to find them ten feet away from where they were when your apartment was a mess.
  4. Resisting the urge to redecorate. Every time.