sunday confessional

Confession: Sometimes at the grocery store in the self-checkout line, I will say that I have one avocado when I really have two. Two for the price of one THAT IS WRONG.

Confession: The other day before we went to Lagoon, I told my dad I needed to stop at the grocery store (my life is apparently made up of trips to the grocery store) to get allergy medicine. LIE. I had forgotten my red lipstick and wanted to buy another tube. My comfort blanket can be found inside of a tube.

Confession: If the pope got, like, even more liberal and started ordaining women and marrying gays, I would consider becoming a nun.

Confession: I am terrified of going to the dentist.

Confession: I really need to go to the dentist.

Confession: I don't want to tell you why I really need to go to the dentist.

Confession: I think I might be autistic. But then again, doesn't this thought go through everyone's mind at some point? Or is that just me? Or is that just an autistic thing?

Confession: An ice cube fell on the carpet, I picked it up, and directly put it in my mouth.

Confession: I vacuumed a part of the carpet in my room that had turned gray because it was covered in so much dust. And by "dust" I mean human skin, clearly. Isn't that what dust is? Skin and nostalgia?

Confession: I have waaaay more interesting and possibly damning confessions that I shall not share with you today. But tomorrow? Maybe. Only if I am not too busy stealing avocados and reciting the Liturgy of the Hours.