Sometimes entire weeks feel like a battle between Me and Me. I constantly fight not to turn inward, inward, inward. It's self-obsession to the nth degree, as if that level of scrutiny could possibly make me better, smarter, or happier. I must get something out of it, or I wouldn't do it, right?
I often wonder if I have some kind of mental illness that makes me incapable of communicating with others on a deep and lasting level (because it occurs to me every now and then that even my family and closest friends don't know the "real" me). But I communicate for a living.
I surprise myself by occasionally dreaming about people I've only met once or twice or people who are under my invisi-square radar. That must mean I pay more attention to others than I think I do.
I hate cherry-flavored things (they taste like cough syrup to me), but I love fresh cherries and will eat them by the bagful in the summertime.
I wish I could just write books and not have to worry about the other part, like actually marketing and selling them.
I'd like to be in a committed relationship, but I'm not willing to work at it.
I judge people most harshly for things I am guilty of myself.
I wear shoes that I love even though they hurt me.