I will be thirty three in two days. I like the symmetry of that. Also, I love palindromes and it's a mini palindrome.
I've never been the type to dread getting older. On the contrary, my life has only gotten better. I wouldn't be ten or fifteen or twenty again if you paid me. But... there is something... sobering(?) about getting older. I feel simultaneously freer AND laden with more responsibility. Because I know more, maybe? I've gathered enough information to know how important it is to do things and have fun and act. But I've also learned enough to understand that I am the only one who can answer for what happens in my life, for the direction I take.
My Man recently told me that I was more self-aware than most people he knows. I appreciated the comment, because I hope not to be deluding myself (at least most of the time). I try to be honest with myself - sometimes sacrificing being nice.
So, anyway, here are thirty three* things:
-I think I am just one of those people who will never get a good night's sleep. I should probably just accept it. I must get enough, because I'm still functioning; I only wonder what I could accomplish if I were getting the right amount of sleep. I'm pretty sure I could cure illnesses with my mind and break down molecules with a wave of my hand... I could probably also keep plants alive and remember when the last time was that I fed the fish...
-I can't pick up the phone if I don't know who's calling. To be honest, I think I picked up this habit when I was being stalked. It's silly now, but I still do it. It's a general anxiety thing. Just now someone called my cell, and I quickly googled the number before picking it up. For the record, it was the gas station telling me that my car has been inspected and I can pick it up after work. SCARY! DANGER! Ha.
-I have yet to learn the difference between healthy appetite and gluttony. I will eat candy corns until I puke, I will drink chocolate milk (or regular milk for that matter) until I see the bottom of the container, and I will eat salt & vinegar potato chips until my tongue is raw and throbbing and useless. What the fuck is wrong with me? I do not know.
-I constantly sing to pets. Not songs that already exist, ones I make up. Terrible ones with no rhythm or rhyme. (Example: I am a fat little kitty! I like to prowl the bushes! La la la la la la!)
-I have watched the following shows sixty billion times and I'm not sick of them yet:
The X Files
CSI (Las Vegas)
There's no mystery. I know who dunit. It doesn't matter. I fear that there's some kind of brain injury responsible for my love of repetition.
-I lose patience/interest in projects if I don't make quick progress.
*So, that's only six things, not thirty-three. You didn't really think I would stick with this for thirty-three things, did you? You so crazy!