Confession: It bothers me when people post song lyrics as their Facebook status. Also? If you complain about the challenges of parenting a ‘gifted’ child on Facebook, I will be forced to roll my eyes so far back in my head that they may get stuck for good.
Confession: I almost had a meltdown in the Target dressing room yesterday. For whatever reason, I have to buy a size up in Target’s pants/shorts. I know this. Usually I accept it with ease. But yesterday, I was not the slightest bit amused. I still bought the shorts, mind you, but I’m not happy about that number, as arbitrary as it is.
Confession: I get annoyed when people spell my name wrong. It’s happened all my life, because evidently, Alison with one L is the most obscure name spelling ever. Consequently, I am uber diligent to make sure I spell people’s names correctly. It’s just the nice thing to do. If my name is in the previous line of text for others to use as a reference point and my name is still misspelled, I can’t help but get a little miffed. Childish? Yes. Am I proud of this? No.
Confession: I think I’ve turned griping, whining and complaining into something less gripey, whiny and complainy when I call it a ‘confession.’ That’s what I like to think, anyway.
Got anything to confess?