Argh, I can’t handle the sweet anticipation of having fabulous Christmas presents to give! Especially when they’re wrapped in shiny, pretty, recycled magazine pages, instead of earth-wasting wrapping (a massive idea I sucked up from GLau.) My credit card is toasted. My wallet’s a loose tongue, flapping at the merest wisp of an idea. Disgusting, I know.
Riffing on the same tune, let me say this — I am so anal that:
- I will change the timestamp on my blog post so it will reflect, say, 17 December, when the automated timestamp is 18 December, since I’m blogging past midnight.
- I am unable to wear clean, fresh underwear that says “Tuesday”, “Wednesday”, etc. if it is actually Monday.
- I really enjoy a good editing test and will finish one in the time allotted, even if I’m in another country with no one to watch over me.
- I must perform stressful mental acrobatics to buy a book that is a different size, published in a different country, or obviously a separate edition from the others I already own, especially if it belongs to a series of some sort. Those wacky Diana Wynne Jones covers drive me compromised, argh!
- I get irritated and mean-spirited when people are slow to grasp things, and refuse to aim higher.
- I believe I can improve on my poor behaviour. Hahahahahaha! Sniff.
- I know there’s more where this came from.