A Twitter conversation made me think of this.
I check PostSecret every Sunday for the new confessions. There’s just something very appealing to me about letting the world see whatever you deem to be your secrets, except you’re anonymous. Weird isn’t it? Its like you’re being risque, yet safe at the same time. One day I’m going to send in my own postcard, or several. Or maybe I already have…wouldn’t you like to know? Bwahhahahah. But anyway.
Ahem. I would love to receive any of the PostSecret books for my birthday or Christmas. Ahem.
I’m feeling a bit goofy and random today so here are a few confessions of my own. Nothing too scandalaous mind you so don’t get TOO excited. I’m saving those for PostSecret ya know.
I already confessed this first one on Twitter but here it is again…
I sometimes pretend to be talking on my cellphone to avoid speaking to someone I don’t want to talk to as we pass in the hall or garage or wherever. Along these same lines, I was on my way to the kitchen today but turned on my heel and headed back into my office because I saw someone going in there that I didn’t want to have to talk to.
I hide my fast food in my humongous briefcase when I come in from getting lunch because I’m embarrassed that I’m eating it and don’t want the skinny office girls to see it. (and if any of these skinny office girls are reading this, I’m just jealous so please take this as a compliment).
I want to set the feminist movement back on its arse and be one of those “Leave it to Beaver” moms who are sickenly domesticated and stay home with the kids while preparing delicious dinners in their immaculate kitchens for their charming husbands who wear fedoras and yell “Hi honey, I’m home” when they walk in the door. Except that I can’t cook, hate to clean, and my hubs doesn’t have a fedora. But he is quite charming.
I want to write one of those bodice-ripping trashy romance novels under a pen name yet to be decided on. But I don’t want Fabio to be on the cover. Anyone but Fabio will do.
I feel guilty for wanting a lunch hour to myself instead of going to see Sam. I love that she’s so close by but then feel guilty if I don’t take advantage of that every day. A post on this later maybe.
I want to tell The Man that I’m going to lunch one day but never come back. Just disappear completely and have everyone wonder what happened to me. For those of you who read this blog, if I ever do this, I will be in Paris (France) so you know where you can find me. But don’t tell um’kay?
I am extremely nervous and shy in groups of people that I don’t know, and sometimes even when I do know them. I hate parties and most kinds of “gatherings”. I don’t know what to do with myself or what to say. It’s borderline social anxiety disorder I tell you. And I don’t like being the center of attention. At all. I’m a behind the scenes kind of girl. A wallflower even.
And that about does it for today. That was somewhat cleansing. Or just goofy.