I'm an aesthetic person. Creativity and productivity flows most freely when I am in an ordered lovely space.
My husband is this creative home and community builder. His {our} business is creating beautiful places to live. Our "research" often takes us to HOUZZ or Pinterest for ideas of imaginative dwellings. His tagline is "The fine art of neighborhood." We have been blessed to build and move MANY times, each time honing our skills of crafting the best use of warm inviting spaces. Hang with me. I'm going somewhere with this.
I am a water snob and perhaps a water bottle snob, too. I just may have the single largest quantity of glass and metal water bottles on the planet. Maybe a slight exaggeration but, honestly, we have a large laundry-basket-sized bin dedicated to water bottles in our pantry.
Over my lifetime, I have not been very monogamous when it comes to water bottles {and ONLY water bottles}. When I tire of a container, I seek a new one. Perhaps I hadn't yet found the perfect mate. {We are still talking water bottles, here.}
Back six months ago, I found myself without a water bottle; the lovely dwelling for my source of hydration. I put my keys in the same spot each time I get home. My shoes are in the same spot so I always know where they are. You might say I am a creature of habit. I keep track of {most} things, except my WB. This time. And I had finally found the one I was willing to settle down with until we were old. It was beautiful {ok, nice looking} and lived in my creative spaces so well with it's bright pop of color. We were happy.
After about a week without my regular pretty companion, my lips started to get dry. {This is one sign that your cells are getting dehydrated} You might say I felt out of sorts in my daily routine without my trusty friend. I tried using cups. Nope. I tried using the plastic WB my husband uses for biking. Nope. I tasted plastic. This just was working.