rules, rules, rules

I love rules. Love, love, love. They're the reason I'm so fascinated with grammar. Because in grammar, there are rules for everything. Lots of exceptions, admittedly, but still. Remember your subjects, verbs, prepositions, keep the nominative and objective cases straight, and you're set. No problem. Just know all the rules, and you can't go wrong.

Unfortunately, everything isn't as simple as grammar. There's no Official Rule Book for life. At least not one that I know of. So in the absence of an official guide, I make up my own rules. And trust me, I have rules for everything. If there are two cookies left on a plate, eat only half of one. One can only get out of bed at five-minute intervals. It's okay to get up at 7:00, 7:05, 7:10, etc. But if one happen to wake up at 7:12, one must wait until 7:15 to lift one's head from the pillow. I live these rules obsessively, much like my daily teeth and gum routine. Now, I may have just convinced you all that I am psycho-crazy-OCD girl, but I'm really not. Really. I'm just terrible at improvising (which is why I prefer writing over speaking any day), so it makes me feel good to know an appropriate action for every situation. And most of my rules are not as nit-picky as appropriate wake-up times, but are attempts at improving and building relationships. For example, send a card 4 days before a friend's birthday so that they will get the card on or before their birthday; if a good deed is done, thank the person responsible; if a favor is asked, do what you can to grant the request. And the list goes on.

Now, for the most part my rules are very helpful. The only problem is, when I have rules for everything, I start to think that I have the answers to everything. And I sometimes forget that my rules are not the Official Rule Book.