1. I like lists. Lists boast accomplishment, the magnitude of aforementioned triumph is entirely inconsequential, I was productive… and there’s proof!
- I like when my husband makes breakfast for dinner. Eggs, bacon, pancakes – the works baby! The sweetness of the pancakes and syrup with the amazingness of the bacon, it’s Meg-Ryan-in-Sleepless-in-Seattle-restaurant-scene worthy.
3. I like waking up with my face in my dog’s fur. He’s a stinky little shit, pardon my language, but it’s true. Even after he gets a bath he’s stinky, it’s part of his charm. He’s not the cuddling kind, so the fact that he lets me sleep with my face against him, it means something, you know.
- I like true-crime television/movies/documentaries/books. I’m fascinated really. I studied it some in college, thought I wanted to make a career out of it back then. The real world had different plans for me. I don’t know what it is, maybe it makes me feel a little less crazy, studying people who do truly crazy things. Maybe that makes me even crazier, thinking I’m less crazy for studying crazy people.
5. I like thinking about writing far more than I actually sit down and write. I’d like to change that, I’m not proud of it. I want to write more than I think about writing, I think my writing would be better if I could do that. Does that make sense to anyone other than myself?