“I’m an open book.”  Well, sure I am, I’m all about the open book thing.  Unless you spent hours putting together a meal and part of it tastes a bit hinky, then I’m all about the smiling politely because you cooked for me thing.

I don’t consider that being a closed book, though, I just call it good manners.

But today?  Today’s a day for true confessions, because who else am I gonna tell all my bizarre secrets to except you good folks?

**  I don’t actually love cotton candy.  Everyone I know loves cotton candy so I guess I just assumed I did, too, but it’s a weird thing.  I never think I want it, I’d never buy it for myself, but then BrightSide gets some and pops a chunk in my mouth.  That delicious sugary goodness wins me over every time, but still…24 hours later I’m right back to “no, thanks, I don’t want any.”

**  The laundry might get clean, or it might sit around waiting for me to run the clothes.  Even if the laundry gets clean, it might sit in a basket for a week (or so – ahem) waiting to get folded.  When the clean clothes make it into drawers is a total crap shoot.  Come to think of it, it’s kind of a miracle I’m dressed every day.

**  Marriage is not a Vulcan mind meld.  Everyone who lives here knows that.  My staples list and BrightSide’s are nothing alike, and yet to this day he seems genuinely shocked when Karo syrup isn’t in the house.

**  Speaking of genuine shock, if you’d told me last year I’d go 52 days without a beer I would have laughed you out of the room.  Seriously, that’s how much I enjoyed my beer.  No Bud Lime with chips and salsa?  You crazy.  And yet here we are.

**  I have for real got to get my car cleaned.  I can live with it being dusty or dirty or whatever a car gets when you drive it around, you know, outside.  But when dog hair floats freely around the inside and crumbs are piled up in the cup holders?  Well, at a certain point even the slackest car owners (which would be, you know, me) have to give in and clean the freaking car.