bubble boy. i'm a creature of comfort. that much is apparently obvious to anyone who hangs out with me much. i don't like to be strained. i'm good with sitting on a couch and you know....just sitting. i don't particularly enjoy talking to random strangers. i like to go to places with my people. my friends. and if you happen to be with "us" then i'm cool with you. but otherwise, my interest level steeply declines.



i'm actually a straight up little bitch about physical comfort. i don't do well in super hot or super cold environments (although i'm more partial to super cold weather i've decided). i don't really like lifting heavy things. the joy of physical exertion is lost on me. my body type is also not really conducive to heavy lifting.



i have this sanitary issue. i need things to be sanitary. or seemingly sanitary. it took forever for me to be convinced that i didn't need to soap and scrub the dishes if they were going to be put into the dishwasher. the stunning logic that my mom finally used on me was, "you've been eating off our non-pre-scrubbed plates for years, it can't be that bad."



the prospect of sliding out of my comfort zone is slightly frightening. i'm not one for bold dashes. i like to expand my borders ever so slowly. i wish sometimes that i could be wild and crazy. but that would require losing a sense of control. and i'm, as yet, unable to do that. heck, i'm just starting to realize that i may have control issues. more on that later.



ever get sick of being yourself?