I DON'T

—go to haunted houses or scary movies
—try to catch food with my mouth like a seal catches fish
—text while I drive. (Just kidding. I totally do that)
—eat anything that has been alive
—sleep very well
—know math of any kind
—like stuffed toys. Except for Ugly Dolls. Those, I love
—remember
—miss my ex, which I thought I would
—have any idea how my mom survived raising six daughters
—bite my nails. Mostly
—have a library card
—want to drive to Utah ever again. It’s long and horrible and boring
—do anything that isn’t on my to-do list. That includes “get out of bed”
—laugh quietly
—read as much as I oughta
—think my parents know that they are my backup plan. If my drug career fails, I’m moving into their basement to be a starving artist. Except I’ll actually be a fat artist because my mom’s a kickass cook, ‘specially when it comes to carbs
—swallow my gum (Just kidding again. I totally do that too)
—hate that I am pale as paper. Instead I kind of like it
—know if I could survive without candy
—like snow
—know how to juggle or yo-yo
—like avocados
—intend to have kids. Presently
—take off my makeup before yoga
—know what my real hair color looks like
—see my sisters as much as I'd like to
—see Amber and Jess as much as I need to
—intend to get up before ten on Saturday
—have enough memory to update my phone
—save
—know how and why Jim puts up with me, but he does
—write all that well apparently
—want to do my expense report even though this month it is really short
—think any living thing is as cute as my Soph: