The confessional

(my imperfections … between me, and you, and the whole wide world)

I’m amazingly good at my job.  I’m efficient, organised and very much a perfectionist.  I make lists and tick them off, which is something I never do at home.  I’m also very quick, and something that would take normal folk a morning to do only takes me about an hour.  Because of this I play (BMX) games whilst pretending to work.  I do draw the line at sites such as Xanga and Facebook though. 

(with game sites I can pretend it was the students who were playing)

When The Blokey was hospitalised (twice, for a grand total of twenty-eight nights) this year there was a miniscule (probably as big as half the fingernail on my little finger) part of me that enjoyed having the house to myself.  The bed was made everyday, the curtains were pulled and the hoovering was done.  I had control of the tellybox remote.

(can you imagine if it had been me in hospital?)

I masturbate.  God (if S/He exists) doesn’t kill a kitten when I do.  I rather think that if S/He hadn’t wanted me to masturbate S/He wouldn’t have made my arms just the right length.  If S/He wants to discuss the wrongness of it when I get to heaven (and I am going to heaven, or somewhere nice) then I’ll happily look forward to that.

(bring it on)

I can’t abide the word procrastinate.  I always assume that those who use it are ridiculously insignificant, or just ridiculous.


There are certain words I can’t spell without a dictionary.  There are also certain words that I can’t even say.  I find the apostrophe to be hard work.  My brain gets very muddled, but I hide it well. 

(despite being a grammar/spelling Nazi)

Sometimes I get the later bus home because there are always less people on it, and I hate people.  Shivering at the bus station on cold winter evenings make me happy if I know I’m not going to have to listen to inane chatter or be squashed against a dirty window, barely daring to breathe.

(please don’t talk to me)

I know that The Blokey thinks I’m a little bit crazy.  I find myself to be incredibly normal.  I may be paranoid, have (annoyingly) quirky OCD tendencies, lack common-sense and find myself switching off far too easily, but that’s my normal.  It doesn’t make me crazy in my world. 

(my head is fuzzy)

I get bored easily.  It’s usually people who bore me, but sometimes Tabatha-Cat does too.   I love her so much, but I need my space and she always wants cuddles. I think I’d make a terrible mummy because of this, and that’s why I’m subconsciously putting motherhood off.  

(enticing a baby to go outside in the dark with beef treats is probably frowned upon)

I would never (ever) cheat on The Blokey because I love him to bits.  But I might if I was propositioned by one particular person. 

(and thankfully this person will never cross my path … maybe)

When I was twenty-one I went to Brussels with some friends from university, and I naughtily ‘borrowed’ a small item of jewellery from a very nice shop.  One day I’ll visit Brussels again and I’ll find the shop and buy something, in atonement for my sin. 

(*hangs head in shame*)

Father, forgive me xxx Elsabeth