What do I really want to do?

Do I want to do social work? No.

Do I want to help the less fortunate? No.

Do I want to help better the world? No.

I just want to do or make something clever. 

Bombalatty

I don't know why, but it's always fatso that like to point out that my dog is fat or make comments about her weight.

Category 1: Shadow
Category 2: Fatty fatty

Do you miss having a full night's sleep?

I don't remember what it feels like to sleep through the night. So, no. I don't miss it.

Ever

I have so much to write about. But I can't.
This is me, isn't it? So full of angst.
I wonder if I'll ever write again?

They don't know. They will never know. How much they are despised, disliked and hated.

Category: Obliviousness is bliss

37

I turn 37 today.
When I was 23, sitting in a club I didn't  like, drinking a  drink that tasted awful, listening to music that I hated, and watching  people who were scantily dressed and drunk, I promised myself that I would never do anything that I didn't want to do. I wouldn't cave in to peer or social pressure.
In all these years, nothing's changed.

Today, I asked myself what I wanted to do? What would make me happy? The answer was, clean the house :-)
At 37, nothing would give me more joy than a clean house. After that, I'm going to try to make marshmallow fondant.
What a way to celebrate the day 😁