This is a very random post. It’s really nothing to do with anything.
I’m a sensitive person. I take most things to heart. I am offended easily. I cry even more easily. Nothing hurts my feelings more than when someone says something mean and follows it up with “I’m just joking”. I hate being teased.
I’m terrified of death. I think about it a lot, though. I’ll admit that I’ve thought about hurting myself, but that was a long time ago (when I was a teen) and I think everyone has the thought at least once. I am afraid of dying, though. I am scared about when happens when you die. I am scared about never getting to say goodbye to the people I love. Because of this, I never end a conversation with my husband, parents, or brother without telling them I love them. I am, however, even more horrified at the thought of those I love dying. Again, I think about it a lot, and the thought sometimes makes me cry.
I hate eggs. My own included.
I am currently being terrorized by a 7 pound fluffy cat. She is adopted from a shelter and is the cutest little furball…. so sweet, so affectionate. But she is destroying my brand new house. She pisses everywhere! My husband and I want to take her back to the shelter, but they’ve told us that they wouldn’t be able to adopt her to another home knowing she has this issue…. so basically, they would euthanize her. So, we’re back to my death fear.
I am currently completely disgusted with a large portion of my very small family. I don’t know how to get over it.
I hate when the bottom cuffs of my pants get wet from rain/snow. It makes me crazy when they sit against my ankles.
I have a nail polish obsession.
I hate getting my hair cut. I hate it even more when they style it after they cut it – it’s like they’re trying to cover something up.
I blame myself for not having a kid yet. I worry that I’m disappointing Cody, my parents, and my in-laws because I haven’t popped a couple of babies by now.
I’m fiercely protective of my family. I think it scares my husband.
I’m insanely proud to be Canadian. I get weirdly pissed off when someone makes fun of my country (South Park sucks).
I am baffled most of the time as to how Cody and I are still a couple. Our fights are so loud that the cats hide. Of course, this will change when there are little babies in the house, but until then, I’m amazed every time we don’t break up.
Speaking of Cody, I adore him. He is the most thoughtful person I’ve ever known and I’m lucky to be his wife.
Cody has a way of evoking two opposite emotions from me at one time. For example: I woke up with a migraine today and he was more than willing to go downstairs and get me cold water from the fridge, Tylenol, and an ice pack. And he left a pretty much empty water container in the fridge for me.
I have curly hair. I hate it.
I hate getting my eyebrows waxed…. I can’t even entertain the idea of having anything else on my body waxed.
I have used tears to get my way.
I love tattoos and have 3 and I want more. I hate having anything pierced, but I have 5. Piercings are so much more painful than a tattoo!
I have weird anxiety issues. Not diagnosed, of course. Another example: I was paranoid to open the door to trick-or-treaters last night because it was making me nervous.
I should take better care of myself… I’m diabetic and I eat the worst foods. I barely cook at home anymore. It is just so much easier to order something. The funny thing is that I actually enjoy cooking and am pretty good at it. I’m just really really lazy.
I always have a plan as to how I’m going to start getting healthier. But I really have very little willpower and my efforts always fizzle out.
I hate when people give me tips. About anything. I don’t care how you diet. I don’t care how you got into your exercise groove. I don’t care about how you charted and took temperatures, and followed a calendar to get pregnant. I AM NOT YOU.
I don’t know why I’m writing all of this. I guess I felt I should write something on my blog, but didn’t really want to talk about babies or lack of.