The first player of this game starts with writing 6 weird things/habits about themselves and then selects 6 others to write an entry about their 6 weird things/habits as well as state this rule clearly. After making your list of weird things, pick 6 others. They are allowed to laugh at you in your comments as much as they want, so deal! Don’t forget to leave a note that says, “You are tagged!” in their diary.”

1. It doesn’t matter if I sleep til four in the afternooon, or bounce out of bed at seven, I am never really awake until I’ve brushed my teeth, and if the toothpaste is a flavor other than mint, my whole world is off-kilter.
2. I have an underwear fetish, of a sort. My underwear has to match or coordinate with whatever I’m wearing. Granted, no one but me and Fuzzy ever see my underwear, but it’s like a secret. Knowing is half the fun. To this end, I have more underwear than any single human truly needs, and could probably go a month or two without HAVING to wash any, though that would be gross, and favorite outfits would be unworn.
3. Sometimes, I write smut.
4. I have a strong aversion to public restrooms. I have ever since I was little. It might have something to do with being the one to crawl under the door and open the stall from the inside, at the beaches in New Jersey that only have pay-toilets (not like the froufrou ones in Europe, just normal public restrooms with coin-op locks on the doors). When I am in a restaurant or store that has a clean and non-threatening restroom it goes on a sort of mental map. (Yet another reason to frequent Starbucks.)
5. I think in songs. Mostly showtunes. If my life was a play it would so HAVE to be a musical comedy.
6. When I’m writing, especially dialogue, I have to hear it to know if the phrasing is right, so I wander around the house testing bits of scenes I’m working on and very likely confusing Fuzzy, and not just the dogs. I suspect they all want to know who I’m talking to. (I try not to do this in public, because that would border on unpleasantly weird, but sometimes I think I forget. Maybe I should get a bluetooth headset for camouflage?)

   As for tagging, I don’t like to do that. If you’re moved to respond, do so. I tag you, you, you, not YOU, but definitely you, and you…oh, and you too.

…often come wrapped in a few lines of text, like the email I received from an old family friend yesterday. My Wednesday at work was pathetically Thursday-ish, chaotic, and frustrating beyond belief. I was at the office past eight, and I’m still not quite as caught up as I’d like to be, but, mostly so.

I’ve come home too tired to write, even though my mind is burning with ideas, with words desperate to get out, almost every day this week. I miss the days when I had time for daily entries, even multiple entries, and I’m trying to find a way to reclaim that.

I’m in a really horrid place work-wise. The charm of it being a new job has worn off, and I’m bored and restless. The people are cool to hang out with during the forced captivity of working hours, but I keep feeling like there’s something More or Better I could be doing.

I turn thirty-six next month.
Shouldn’t I know by now what I want to be when I grow up?