I have been taking the VCB's Burt's Bees lip balm every day. Even before he started letting me, when I would fish it out of my purse and say, "How did that get in here?"
Sometimes I lie and I don't know why.
I had a dream last night that I won a million dollars at a slot machine, but the casino said I couldn't have the money because my mother had called earlier wanting to know if the casino sold cigarettes.
I have latent issues about my mother and smoking and money. Apparently.
I secretly enjoy fighting with people on-line. But only when they start it. (I'm actually a very good fighter.)
I'm so poor I bought hair gel from the gas station. 99 cents. It smells entirely like rubbing alcohol and makes my hair crispy like in eighth grade.
I can't be bothered to hang up my laundry. Or shower sometimes. I'm kind of gross in general.
Case in point: There is a half-full coffee cup that has been on my desk for...I'm gonna say...roughly a week and a half.
Even though I buy 99 cent hair gel, I still have someone pump my gas occasioanlly. It's worth the extra $2. I'm that lazy.
People have made me mix CDs that I have never listened to. I know now that it is okay not to like 70 minutes of Bathtub Shitter.
No more shame, people. No more.