Some things are just too hard to do

I just came across a thought-provoking truth.
Some writer observed that one of the hardest things on earth is to go into a grocery store for just a loaf of bread and come out with only that. I know all about this. My record was going in for 2.89 of sliced white and coming out 127 later. If I recall correctly, I even forgot the bread.
It got me thinking about other things that are equally hard to do.
One of them happened to me a few minutes ago.
When your computer has begun to freeze up, it's almost impossible to stop clicking your mouse even though you know it will make things worse.
I also know few people able to resist for more than a minute, if that, when an e-mail chime lets them know that a new letter has arrived. I personally check every half-hour or so even if there has been no chime.
I suppose that might have to do with poor self-discipline. But this is really about quirky compulsions.
For example, I'm personally among those who can't leave a movie theater until every credit has rolled. I have to know who had the part of "Woman ordering coffee." Perhaps it's because I once spent two days as an extra in what proved an obscure movie. But I was promised I would get two seconds of screen time as "Man near podium." Alas, my moment was cut. So I suppose I want to see which extras got lucky.
If you put a television remote control in my hand, I feel compelled to channel surf during commercials -- and sometimes during the slow parts of shows. Some say that's a sign of a poor attention span. I think it's about a deep human need to see what else better might be out there.
Oh, and it's near-impossible to not watch at least a few minutes of "To Catch a Predator" if you chance upon it right when the creep walks into the house to find an NBC reporter instead of a teenage girl.
It's difficult, when in line at a drugstore or grocery, to avoid reading the sex headlines on the covers of Cosmo or Glamour. Such as: "The one incredible, top-secret, never-before-revealed thing men want from you in bed." I remember peeking on one like that, expecting a reference to an exotic activity in some newly discovered chapter of the Kama Sutra. Instead, the answer was, "Enthusiasm." Oh.
Gender specific
Some of these compulsions are specific to each gender.
I find that when women put on eye make-up, they can't not open their mouths.
As for men, when we eat the last Wheat Thin, it's hard to resist putting the empty box back. Same with the empty orange-juice container after you've swigged the final gulp directly from the carton. I meant to say we usually use a glass, but maybe once a year we'll be in a hurry.
Many men can't not spit when looking down from a high place outdoors. I think it's genetic.
And when breaking up with someone a man has been dating, it's very difficult for him to say, "It's you." Men always blame it on their own immaturity, or inability to commit, and say, "It's me." Even if it isn't.
Both genders find it impossible not to slow down on the highway when passing a fender-bender on the other side. Everyone, I suppose, is a gawker at the train wreck.
For some reason, you never see people take the top newspaper in the stack. They always reach for the one just below.
It's tough, when using the powder room as a guest, to resist checking your host's medicine cabinets.
And I'm not sure why, but the worse the song, the more that people are compelled to hum it in their heads. No matter how much I resist, that happens to me whenever I see a reference to "Feelings." It's the same with "It's Not Unusual."
I may well be missing many others. But right now, I have to move on.
I haven't gotten a "you've got mail" chime in a half hour.
That means there's nothing new there.
But I can't help myself.
I have to check it anyway.
Patinkin writes for The Providence Journal. Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service.