I won’t see this date again. In honor of that, here are twelve things about me no one else has ever seen before.
- I love Excel. LOVE. IT. I’ve even used it for design before, which is stupid for a graphic designer (it wasn’t easy, but I am stubborn. And persistent.) But, OH, those rows and columns of orderly squares…[sigh] I love a good grid.
- I write on EVERYTHING. My desk, the walls, in books, on clothing, on MYSELF. On my CHILDREN. A constant comment from my husband was “don’t draw on the baby!” I don’t care if the kids do it either and many a wall in our house has had impromptu words appear on it. Letters and words are so damn cool looking. So, naturally, yes, I have tattoos.
- I’m really good at giving pertinent, effective advice. But lousy at following it myself. Do as I say, not as I do.
- I’m pretty sure I have ADD and OCD but I’ve developed some good coping mechanisms and am decent at hiding it from all the put-together, with-it people.
- I used to snore. BAD. Like wake-myself-up snoring. Like a trucker. (Do trucker’s snore? I don’t know, just always heard that saying.) But, I don’t anymore. Losing weight fixed that, so my husband is getting better sleep now, too.
- I’m terrified of aliens. A few people already know this, but most people don’t. I try to hide it because it’s irrationally stupid, I know. And makes me sound like an idiot. On the flip side, I’m fascinated by the possible discovery of life forms on other planets. Just so long as they stay on their own damn planet. I follow NASA with fervor.
- I read in the bathroom. Who doesn’t, right? But, no really, like it’s nothing for me to be in there an hour for no physical reason, I’m just reading. Husband at the door, asking if I “fell in?” It’s not even comfortable, no padded seat in our house. And we only have one bathroom, so it’s pretty rude of me, I admit, but, can’t seem to break myself of it. Also, my leg falls asleep while I’m in there. TMI? It’s always my right leg. Like paralyzed numb, tree trunk dead weight. Definitely TMI.
- I don’t wash my face. Like ever. And I have pretty great skin. I always thought if I started having problems with it I would start to do something different, but I’m 45 and it hasn’t happened yet, so I’m rolling with it. And yes, this often means I wake up with raccoon eyes. I like to think of it as my sexy, sleepy, groupie look. My husband probably thinks “crack-head hooker.”
- I’m obsessed with calendars. I have 5 on my desk RIGHT NOW, all within 12” of me, and I use them all (not for different purposes, just repeating the same stuff in each one). I have four more within 3 feet. And this is just my work desk. I have another 4-5 at home. I desperately want one concise, organized planner, but every time I go down that road, invest in that one system that will meet all my needs, I get nervous and start adding more. It’s irrational, I know.
- I have no sentimental attachment to things, momentos, bric-brac, etc. You’d think without that pull I’d have a beautiful, minimal lifestyle, but I am really one-newspaper-stack-away from being on Hoarders. I absolutely understand the power and importance of photographs and keepsakes, yet I don’t feel it about my own stuff.
- I secretly think I can sing despite EVERYONE’S insistence that I can’t. People actually wince around me if I sing outloud, like I’m physically hurting them, but I think it’s just them. They’re all crazy! I sound AWESOME in my own head.
- I’m more a 5-minute-rule kinda’ person than a 5-second-rule. Unless it’s sticky. Then I just call the dog over to clean it up J
That’s all I got. It was tougher than I thought. I’m a pretty open book so thinking of 12 things I didn’t think anyone knew about me took some work. And made me realize I could probably use therapy.