These Truths Are Self-Evident

Now that I'm in my mid-thirties (oh, God, that's the first time I've said that out loud...ugghhh), I have come to some conclusions about myself that are not so pretty, but will just have to be accepted:

1. I will never, ever finish the laundry on the day I start it. I will forever be one of those people who has that perpetual load in the dryer that's waiting for the next week's washing to force me to take it out and fold it. Loads which have been fortunate enough to make it out of the cycle of cleanliness will just have to continue waiting folded in the baskets patiently until said new loads force me to put them away so the next batch can have it's turn being ignored. Share and share alike, I say.

2. I will never load the dishwasher right after dinner. I will wait until the next morning, when I have to scrape off the leftovers of what seemed so appetizing the night before but was apparently just Gook waiting to happen from my increasingly chipped plates. Shabby chic applies to chipped plates, right?

3. I will always hate to get my hands wet. For someone who loves dogs as much as I do, I have to admit that my dislike of wetness makes me much closer to being a cat. Putting my hand in the clean dishwasher where all those big puddles of water are waiting to splash me from atop the upside-down glasses, getting the toys out of the bathtub when they're full of cold water, even being freshly out of the shower, all drive me berserk. I like showering, swimming, etc, but immediately afterwards I feel like a... well, like a wet cat.

4. I am not going to be a patient person. EVER. So get over it, already!


And lastly, an oldie but a goodie...

5. I will never get back into those jeans, that top, that underwear, and no, not even you, beloved tank dress. I've loved you, and lately worshiped you from afar, so believe me when I say it's not you... it's me. There's someone else in my life, his name is Carb, and my kangaroo pouch and I are leaving you for him.

I'm not sure if this was an ode to weakness or a battlecry of self-acceptance, but there they are, five of my many (faults? quirks? neurosis?) hung out like underwear on your neighbor's line - too much information about someone you hardly know!