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There are times that I step back from the mirror [or the computer] and wonder, what on EARTH am I thinking? It’s no lie. There are times when I honestly and truthfully just annoy myself. I sit back sometimes when I’m at my worst and wonder why my husband puts up with my unbelievably frustrating bad habits.
For example:
I tend to nag. Not really in a whiney way, but in a “Hey babe…did you do so-and-so like I asked you to?” kind of way. The kind of way where I repeat that same sentence to him about 500 times until he finally gets annoyed and goes to do it so I will shut up.
I am a nail-biter. I can’t help it. I always have been. I don’t remember a time in my life where I didn’t bite my nails. I used to get them done on a regular basis, and aside from the fact that it gets pricey, I still chewed on those. And don’t even THINK that I will make it through an intense movie without chewing every single stinkin’ nail down to the quick. Because I will.
I buy things that I really don’t need because they are pretty. Like notebooks. Or pens. Or day planners [knowing that I have one that I use steadily]. I buy them “just because” and tend to never use them. For instance, I bought a SUPER cute 5 Subject Notebook from Target a few months ago that I thought I would get some serious use out of. I’ve written on three pages. Still haven’t a clue as to what I will do with it.
I’m compulsive about the covers on the bed. I’m that person. The person that makes the bed before they climb it. Drives my husband insane. He would love to just lay down at night and go to sleep, but I insist on making sure that the blankets are evenly spread and tucked the right way. Why don’t I do it in the mornings after I get up? No clue. Other than that I just don’t want to.
I’m way to ga-ga over Twilight. I’m not quite as bad as some of the teenagers, but it’s pretty bad. Like, spastic, overly excited kind of bad. Read the whole series in less than 3 days kind of bad. I wish I wasn’t because I never wanted to be one of “those” people who fell into the craze. But I did. Darn.
I have certain underwear for certain occasions. I know, I know, maybe this is TMI and if it is, I apologize. But seriously. Certain panties for certain things…certain ones for dresses, dress pants, jeans, shorts, skirts [not that I will be wearing skirts any time soon] and certain ones for bedtime. I think it’s a quirk I get from my Grandma because as far back as I can remember, she always had a thing about her under garments. Hmm.
When I write things, even just notes on a Post-it, if I don’t like the way that it looks, I throw it away and start over. [I’m telling you, I’m borderline obsessive compulsive!] If it doesn’t look neat or one of the letters looks funky, I ditch it and begin again.
I’m an optimistic person when it comes to everyone and everything except myself. I am very much my own worst critic. I never see the silver lining when it comes to things I want to do and/or achieve. I think this is what drives my husband up the wall more than anything.
I am a little bit too critical. I don’t mean to be, but I am. I don’t know if I would call myself outright “judgmental” but there are things I’m probably a little too blunt about. Oops. Like, when I see someone wearing something that they absolutely should not be wearing, I’m the first one to point it out. When someone’s kid is just losing their mind and the parent is doing nothing to handle it, I am quick to condemn that parent.
[**Notice that I said when the parent is doing nothing. I don’t want this comment to cause controversy because we’ve all been “that” mom with the kid that just lost it. But there is a difference between a temper tantrum that is at least attempting to be dealt with and a parent who just sits there and does absolutely nothing to stop the behavior or address it.]
What about you? What are some of your worst habits? What do you do that drives your significant other up the wall? What do you do that drives YOU up the wall?