I still hunt and peck when I type. It really isn't my fault. There was a really cute boy in my keyboarding class in grade school so I spent the entire class drawing our names together in hearts in my notebook instead of paying attention. Really coming back to bite me in the ass 20 years later. Stupid boys.
The Confessional is now open. Have something you need to repent for? Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.
Sins from fellow boozehounds:
I confess that I have been using my pregnancy to avoid unpacking boxes.
We moved in just before the holidays, AT THE END OF NOVEMBER, and did
the holiday crazything, and then discovered this pregnancy January 6. No wonder I slept so much while celebrating at the inlaws'. I am now 4
1/2 months, and there are. Still. Boxes. Everywhere. In fact, I've
avoided unpacking so much so that even the dishwasher doesn't always get
unloaded, and a whole load of dirty dishes will fill the sink and cover
the counters. And I don't feel very guilty because, really, husband
isn't unpacking or unloading, either. Except that he works more than
full time, and I work part-time. At least I did the taxes. Maybe I'll
start nesting when classes are over in June?
ILBAB says: I would milk it until they are in college. You need time to "heal".
I once had a really bad cold for four months straight. Sometimes, I
would cough so hard, I'd puke- especially if I'd been drinking, which
was often, since I was 21 and in a punk band at the time. Once, after a
show, we were sitting at a table in a bar watching another band, and I
cough-puked all over my own foot. I looked up and nobody saw. I went
into the bathroom, rinsed out my sock, and went back to rocking.
ILBAB says: Are you allowed to be in a punk band if you DON'T randomly barf on yourself and keep rocking? I think not.
