TRUE CONFESSIONS

I've discovered that writing a blog makes you introspective. So does being stuck inside with absolutely nothing to do. Anyhow, I began thinking about how we all do things we're ashamed of, things we wish we could change. So, as a public service, I'm listing some of mine in the hopes that they will make you feel better about yourself.

 

I exhume snacks. In an attempt to stop myself from eating too many cookies, I have often poured the remains of a bag of Oreos into the kitchen trash can. Within a half hour, I'm feeling deeply remorseful, so I stumble back to the garbage and make a desperate effort to salvage as many cookies as I can. (Ideally, the ones not near anything moist.) 

I know this is pathetic. But the only way to prevent myself from this doing this is to take the cookies to the sink before tossing them, hold them under the faucet, and drown them. This doesn't seem fair to the Oreos.

 

I spot the differences. This particular obsession upsets me to no end. I'm talking about those pairs of images that appear in newspapers and magazines with titles like "Can You Find 10 Differences?" Whenever I see one, I immediately mutter, "Oh, truck," except I don't say "truck." I try to turn the page. 

But let's say it's a picture of a guy throwing a Frisbee to his dog. I immediately notice that the dog's collar has changed from red to blue. And I further realize that the Frisbee is smaller in the second picture. So before you know it, I've grabbed a pen and I'm circling things. And then, when I fail to find all ten, I start sneaking peaks at the upside-down answers because a) I don't want anyone to see the unfinished puzzle and think I was too stupid to finish and b) I've convinced myself that if you read the answers upside down it's not cheating.

 

I read things that are not meant to be read.

You know the previews that pop up on your screen before you can watch the movie that you actually want to watch? And you know how something like this appears before each one?

 

I read the thing. Every. Single. Time. As though I might run screaming from the theatre if I suspect I'm not a card-carrying member of the "Appropriate Audience."

 

I am an accomplished actress on dog walks. Sometimes, when I am walking my dog in the nearby prairie preserve, she decides to relieve herself at the very beginning of our hour-long trek. Now criticize me if you will, but I really don't want to walk for an hour on a hot day clutching a steaming bag of dog poop. 

Unfortunately, people will beat you with sticks if you don't pick the stuff up, even if you ARE in the middle of a prairie. So if anyone has witnessed my dog doing her thing, I make a show of walking briskly over to the poop, crouching down with the bag, and grimacing distastefully for authenticity. Then I grab a rock to give the bag heft, stand up, and spin the bag closed. The dog and I continue our walk. And yes, I know this is wrong.

 

I fake self-control. I do not approve of drivers who slow down and stare at the scene of a collision. So when I realize a gaper's block has formed, I put my hands firmly on the wheel, look straight ahead, and resolutely drive past the scene of the collision. The only problem is, I still slow down and I am totally looking out of the corner of my eye.

 

(By the way, something similar happens when I'm out for a walk on a warm day and well-built male joggers run by without shirts, their skin glistening. I force myself to keep looking straight ahead, but... And yes, I know this is unacceptable on many, many levels.)              

 

I have bad newspaper habits. My husband and I still get a newspaper, and I still read the comics pages. And not only do I read the comics, but I often read them before I read any articles or columnists, which, given the current state of the country, I tell myself is entirely justified. But if I'm being really honest, I never do get to the articles.

 

So there you are. You may no longer respect me, but I hope this has made you feel better about yourself during these difficult times.