Moose in the Kitchen

My faults aren’t really illustrated. I don’t have drawings or photos of them. Though I’d love to own a camera that catches people’s faults, and not just the patently obvious ones, like when you’ve buried your nose in a pint of chocolate chip ice cream and look up, chocolate crusting the corners of your mouth, just as the camera flashes. I could make a killing snapping shots of people’s first dates. “Nope. Sorry, ma’am. You don’t want that one. My photograph shows that he spends his weekends with glazed donuts and ESPN. And he hates his mother.” Think of the time you’d save!

Sadly, my genius is limited to the finesse with which I pinch pennies until Abe’s head wails for mercy. I won’t be visiting the patent office any time soon, blueprint for magic camera clutched in my hand. No, my faults are illustrated with WORDS, my friends. Though not so many words per fault that each equals a picture (1000:1).

The point is, I need to improve the accuracy of my titles. On with my faults. Please note the bold font.

Lack of Discipline: Good discipline is to me what creme brulee is to Kate Moss. A nice idea but unworkable in practice. When I left a blank Word document to sit down for lunch today, I opened a book to read while pretending a spinach salad was a steaming plate of macaroni and cheese. Six hours later, I finished the book. The Word document remains word-less.

Tendency Toward Justification: The book is RESEARCH. It’s a novel. I’m trying to write a novel. See? Research.

Perpetual Worry (With a Hint of Nagging): Illustrated by two conversations mere hours ago. (I’m the one speaking in ALL CAPS.) “I’m taking the motorcycle to get my hair cut.” “Be careful! Those things KILL people.” “I’m taking the dog to Walgreens.” “Be careful! I saw a sign in the neighborhood the other day, pleading for their dog back, and the dog was TAKEN OUTSIDE OF WALGREENS.” For authenticity, tinge all conversations with hysteria.

Exaggeration: Not 10 minutes ago, I sent an email with the subject line: “A raccoon is eating my arm!” There was no raccoon.

I have many other faults, one of which is filed under “Inability to Complete What I Start.” It’s right after the file labeled “Imaginary Raccoons.”