YOU'VE HAD IT WITH YOU

Reader, what is it aboot you that makes you want to scream? What do you do that you would pay to be hypnotized if you could only change that behavior? Is/Are these things new to you or have you suffered through them your entire life?

I will answer this and try to be concise because I realize that you all have better places to be and things to do. I could, you know, fill volumes on this topic...

I am the world's worst procrastinator. Every once in awhile this stellar quality of mine will sneak up behind me... Ok. Wait, no. It does not sneak. I know it's there. Always. Rather, it follows me around like a pesky snot-nosed neighbor kid and every once in awhile will just haul off and clip me a good one on the ass. Like today. I'm frantically mailing Scavenger Hunt Photos to Jeff, one of which I shot this morning at 6:30 am on my way home from work, no less. Forget editing that one... But this is a way of life for me. The upside is that once in awhile, if I'm lucky, the very thing I put off doing either expires or ends up not needing to be done anyway and I save time like that. Warped logic? Sure. A psychologist once tole me I thrived on chaos. Maybe. The alternative is my dreaded arch-enemy Boredom. Am I a textbook case, I wonder?

I hate that I am a pack rat. I hate it more for Poopy. I hold on to weird things too; ticket stubs, every cool marble I've ever found in my life, receipts for everything, forever. A friend who takes great vacations all over the place collects rocks for me from cool places. I cannot walk past a rack of sunglasses without buying a pair. Hence, too many sunglasses. I can't get rid of books and I keep buying them... And cds and dvds. Clothes. I have a hard time parting with clothes if they still fit. I haven't changed sizes in like eons, so I have closets full. Shoes too.

I make lists constantly and can't throw them away unless everything on them is completed. Like that ever happens... If I hear a good joke or a quote or an interesting website I write it down. At any given time I can fill up a Subaru with post-its or index cards out of my purse and pockets. Most of my belongings are paper, I just realized that. Books, journals, notes, receipts, scratched-off lottery tickets, grocery lists, photographs, crossword puzzles... I'm a paper freak and didn't realize it till now. Oh and I have every greeting card anyone ever gave me since my 13th birthday. Neatly separated and dated in boxes in the attic, mind you. Except maybe for the last couple years. I also have a decent-sized collection of those fantasy collector cards but just from the artists I really like. And every Rolling Stone I had since I think 1972. I think I'll stop here.

I'm not telling you anymore of my faults. Seeing this in print is scaring me. I'm in worse shape than I thought. Poopy will be glad to hear this admission. They say the first step to the cure is admitting you have a problem.

(I've always contended that my writing is therapeutic.)

Now you tell me yours...