I confess that more often than not, I wait to fuel up until the low fuel light comes on and I’m running on fumes. I know it’s bad for the car, and I know that I shouldn’t rely on a little illuminated fuel pump light in the dashboard. What can I say? I live life on the edge.
I confess that our Christmas decorations are still up. The stockings are hung, the cards are hanging limply from a ribbon on the staircase, and the tree – complete with naked tree skirt – still sits in the corner. And we still plug the lights in most nights.
I confess that I put far too much sugar in my tea. Only black tea though. The mint, chamomile, etc. varieties remain sugarless. But black tea turned syrupy by white poison – that’s my weakness.
I confess that I hardly even scold Flo when she scratches the chair that she loves to scratch. And often my scolds – when they happen – are bookended by laughs.
I confess that I am currently reading the Harry Potter series. For the first time. I’m not quite sure how I managed to wait so long.
I confess that I have a terrible memory for details. I can’t even remember what I have forgotten clearly enough to offer an example here.
I confess that I don’t really like fruit. Unless we’re talking the apples in apple pie, the blueberries in blueberry muffins, or the pineapple on top of Hawaiian pizza.
I confess that I like fries a lot. In fact, fries are one of my favorite foods. Also, I like soft, borderline soggy fries.
After all this, can we still be friends?
What are your confessions today?