danger follows the megomobat

Pride - I’d like to think that I’m a good writer, at least when it comes to developing my characters. I really take pride in my brain children, even if most of them will never see the public light of day.

Envy - is “everything” an acceptable answer? I guess I’ll go with… I wish I was better at staying dedicated to things. I’m notorious for giving up or losing interest in projects or endeavours, and as a result, I have very little to show or be proud of.

Nachos. Or tacos, so long as they are the home made kit variety and not the shit from like Taco Bell or something. I can literally sit and eat platters and platters of them. My record for eating tacos sits at 20 something in one meal. And I’m actually eating nachos right now. Ha ha ha ha. >_>

Paper. Stationery, art paper, envelopes, printer paper, sketchbooks, scrapbooking paper, cardboard, cardboard boxes, newsprint, anything. I hoard paper to a degree that actually might qualify me as crazy. I have hundreds of notebooks and sketchbooks, and crates full of stationery and scrapbook paper. I also compulsively keep shipping boxes, and making myself throw them out is actually really emotionally exhausting.

CHILDREN.

I cannot deal with kids. They make every fibre of my being irritated or angry. I can’t deal with them at all.

(similarly… also the people who click their tongues and tell you “you’ll change your mind!” when you tell them that you don’t like and won’t have kids. BITCHES, I KNOW I DON’T WANT CHILDREN. Just because I am under 40 doesn’t make my stating this any less factual!)