5 true confessions of a jaded mind

* There’s a Calvin-esque part of me that emerges after rain storms. I see a big puddle and I just feel the need to jump.

* There’s another part of me that hopes for some sort of time or place travel to occur when I splash into dark puddles.

* I can’t kill bugs that crunch. Doing so just creeps me out.

* I like hot tea and iced tea, but I don’t like when hot tea goes cold.

* Two years ago, my eye doctor said I needed bifocals. Despite my reservations (which foolishly involved me feeling old), I took her advice and bought a pair. When it was time to renew my prescription, I explained that my eyes had never really adapted to the bifocals and that I wanted straight specs instead. Turns out, she was right and I was wrong, and that’s why I’ve spent the past year squinting and removing my glasses to read anything.

When I was in high school, I worked the phone bank for the The MDA Show of Strength over a Labor Day weekend. On Tuesday morning, after my alarm went off, I hit the top of the clock and automatically replied, “Jerry Lewis Telethon. How may I help you?”

On the rare occasions that I mix ‘Quik into a glass of milk, I always add an extra scoop. I won’t stir it in, though. I like to eat the gritty bit that doesn’t dissolve.

If you see me in the grocery store, and I’m wearing headphones, it’s likely I’m running from zombies.

My home is far more cluttered than I’d like it to be.

Whenever I start a new novel, I read the first five chapters. Then, I flip to the end to see how many chapters are left. Don’t know why, but I must know this in order to keep reading.