Life's Too Short For Bad Coffee

Okay. So every Sunday, I get to church an hour early to make coffee and set up donuts. Sometimes, when I have a conflict, I ask someone else to fill in. Recently, my friend asked me to write out the instructions for the giant urn, swimming pool-sized percolator, so that if I'm not there or one of my kids is sick, everyone else knows how to make coffee.

So here's the thing. I looked at the GIANT urn that makes 55 cups. And I just dumped in what seemed a "reasonable" amount of coffee. I like coffee strong, and so I figured, however it came out, I would drink it. Heck. I have four kids. It's caffeine. What's to b*tch about?

Last weekend, Significant Other came to church for the first time in six months. He said, "Life is too short for your bad coffee." True enough. He measured out, per the chef that he is, the amount of coffee per 55 cups of urn. He wrote out a recipe, if you will, for coffee. I won't follow it.

Herein, I decided, is the difference between those of us labeled "pantsters" and those of us labeled "plotters." I like to wing it. I figure the way the coffee turns out is immaterial. It's the experience or SHARING of coffee that counts. I don't do recipes. I do "looks about right."

And my guess is the way I am about EVERYTHING follows through to writing. Doesn't make my way right and more meticulous outline people wrong. Not at all. Just is, I would guess, two entirely different approaches to life, and therefore writing.

Me? I would be the type, and have been the type, to show up at Lowe's with a green leaf and say, "Can you 'sort of' match this color?" And I'll be happy with whatever they give me. My experience with the men at Lowe's is I amuse them to no end. "Can you 'sort of' get this to look 'sort of' like that?" Versus someone who comes up with the EXACT Pantone color swatch and says "Make me citrone green #12349."

Me? I go to my hairdresser and say, "Can you sort of cut along the back . . . I don't know. Stack it here. Make it shorter here. Cover up the gray, see what you can do." Versus,"Here's a picture, make my hair look like this."

I greet my dog trainer. "What are your goals with the three dogs?" he asks. "I don't know. If they could not jump up on the table and do Frisbee tricks in front of company, I'll be happy. They don't have to roll over on command."

My son and I drove around for 20 minutes today trying to find a house 2.1 miles from our own. I can't read a map. I can't follow directions on paper.

"Sort of" and "kind of" rule my life.

You get the idea. So when I write, I "sort of" know how I am going to get to the end, but I am OK with surprises along the way. Like following a map--sort of. I may get there. I may have to call my Significant Other on my cellphone and say, like countless times before, "I am about five blocks from the house and I am lost. Talk me home."

So . . . does any of this sound familar? Is the way you live your life the way you write?

And by the way . . . GO GIANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!