Me, myself, and I

I can’t make a decision to save my life.

Don’t go shopping with me. I won’t be able to decide if I should buy it or not. So I will walk around for half an hour with it. Then I will decide to get it. Then I will put it back. Then I will ask to go back and get it again. I will once again get it, quickly pay for it, get home and the then return it.

I hate shaving.

I DO eat my vegetables.

My idea of makeup- Chapstick and maybe some concealer to cover up the dark bags under my eyes cause my friend once asked me, have you slept lately? No, I really just got junk punched in the face by a homeless zombie. Actually, as a matter of fact, I just didn’t put makeup on today thanks for noticing. :/

I don’t watch TV and movies. I have ADD.  I have the attention span of a kindergartner. I will begin twitching and making weird noises if you try and subdue me for too long. I may start screaming and you may need to take me out the of room.

I read.

I am picky.

I use phrases like shiz, oh mylanta, and gee wiz to give "life" to my vocabulary. In essence, I talk like a second grader.

My time spent on my walks outdoors is my sacred me time. It is the equivalent to your cup of coffee in the morning. Without it, I can not function.

No, I do not think it is cute when your ugly dog start chasing me. Pen that UGLY thing up.                           

I will clean. If you mess it up, I will castrate you.

No I don’t want to go to dinner with you. Because watching me eat is like watching World War II all over again.

I should come with a warning label- May cause severe itching, burning, bleeding or bruising. Harmful if swallowed. That’s what she said.

Yes, I use that phrase. Quite frequently. So get used to it.

I want Jim Halpert as my husband.

Yes I know I am leaving the house with no makeup on, my workout clothes as my attire, and my hair in a semi-falling out ponytail. Avert your eyes. They may spontaneously begin to bleed.

I am a penny pincher. And when I say pincher, I mean I try to save money ANY way I can. NO, not prostitution thank you. But by any other means.

My goal in life has been the same ever since I was three- to be the white Oprah.

I cannot burp. It is not that I don’t want to! Believe me I do! My body is just malfunctional.

Malfunctional is not a word. Yet, I seem to have used it twice.

Yep, just spell checked it. Not a word. Yes, I use spellcheck.

I run into things. I drop things with no good reason. I fall up/down/through stairs. I can’t walk straight. And yes I am sober at the time.

Worrying is a pastime of mine. If it were an Olympic sport, I would take gold.

I need to quit complaining.

Can’t touch this. (Cue music now..da nah nah nah…nah nah…nah nah..) No seriously…don’t touch me.

I like to sing. Annoying loud. All the time.

I give a pretty damn good puppy dog face. Gets my dad every time.

I am controlling.

I wonder if a human can subsist on pickles and frozen yogurt…

I get quite unpleasant when hungry. Which is pretty much the only cue you will get that I am hungry. I won’t tell you.

SHES HAVING A SEIZURE. No…no that is just me attempting to dance.

My voice is, quite possibly, the most annoying noise on the planet.

I would rather live in danger, than die with fear.

I am what I am. No changing this one. I can’t be tamed. Oh gag I think I just quoted Miley Cyrus…I TAKE IT BACK. Heave…heave…gag...barf.

This is me. Take it or leave it. There are days where the quiet assails me. I wish I were something more. Something different. There are days when I am afraid what you think of me. I panic when I do something outside my comfort zone. I try to lose myself in the chaos of life. Perhaps then I will forget what I am.

Look into my eyes. But not for too long. For I fear you will see the truth. All the things I have done. All the words that are unspoken, resting on my lips. The taste of bitter mourning, never to reach the surface. Perhaps they will spill out. Fly into the air. And then drop to the ground and shatter as broken glass. Will you then pick up the pieces? Or will you point and laugh at the mistake that I am. This thing that is me. Will you risk cutting yourself to help me put this mess back together? Or will you walk away and mutter that I am not worth your time, not what you were looking for. Am I destined to be alone? Will I ever amount to anything?  My greatest fear resides in your response. I shutter as you walk past. If you only knew. Me.