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No Such Thing as Not Sticking to It

A while back I wrote about how I was going to be neat and tidy henceforth. I'd clean my RV twice a day, keep my travel stuff organized while on the road, and basically be the opposite of what I was before.

I stuck with it for a few weeks, but then, in a hurry to pack, I left my RV messy before leaving on a trip. When I got back I never got back into the groove.

It's not like I didn't realize that I had abandoned this habit. I was fully aware of it. If you had asked me about it, I might have expressed that it was too bad, but it just never stuck.

A couple days ago I went through that mental cycle and was ever so slightly appalled at myself. Oh, really? I decide that I'm going to make a change, and it doesn't stick? And somehow that's an explanation that excuses me from having to do the hard work of getting back on the habit?

Keeping Death In Mind

On SEBASTIAN MARSHALL

March 10, 2010. Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Late morning.

I pulled on my swim trunks, trainers, and a tank top and walked out of my little guesthouse room, sliding through the cramped restaurant strewn with tables, and out into the hot, dusty air of Phnom Penh. It's a hot day. It'll be good to swim after lifting weights.

I said, "No no, thank you" to the tuk-tuk drivers offering to take me somewhere in the city, pushed through the little crowd, and out onto the street. The streets in Cambodia more resemble alleyways than streets, and I navigate around people and vehicles.

I went down to the end of the street, turned left, and skirted along close to the local restaurants, half-tent half-storefront type places to get food. I stepped into the crosswalk, the Hotel Cambodiana rising in front of me. I check right and then left, and I watch left as I cross, watching for oncoming traffic.

A loud scream rings out. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

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