One thing about me is that I have no impulse control. None. Delayed gratification is not a concept I can comprehend. When a whim possesses me, I get up and run wherever it takes me.
Today, for instance, I was sitting at the meeting with the Dean’s Office, and experienced an overwhelming desire – which is the only kind I get – to read true crime novels.
OK, this didn’t sound the way it should. I have no bad feelings towards the Dean’s Office. We have a new Dean, and he’s great. Really great.
But the desire struck, so I dropped everything, ran to the public library, and dragged out two doorstoppers by Ann Rule. Then I read one of them. Yes, the whole 400-page thing. It was very enjoyable.
It’s all like that. The other day I left the office to pop down to the library on campus. Halfway there a desire possessed me to cook lentils. So I turned around, went to the car – never even bothered to go get my things from the office or lock up – and drove home to cook lentils.
Why lentils? Why true crime? Who knows?