So I've realized of late that I, Carrie, am really quirky. As I get older, the more I seem to want things just so. I'm becoming the grandmother that alway frustrated me because she just couldn't adjust quickly. For instance:
My coffee has to be really hot or I can't drink it.
I always leave about an inch left of every drink I get. The cold ones get too warm and the warms ones too cold, so I give up on them before I'm finished.
Pillows must be flat.
Chips and Salsa must be accompanied by lime.
I can't handle when one instrument in a band is out of tune.
Hair that is one shade off of normal coloring is a complete distraction to me.
I love peeling the skin off of a sunburn (mine or anyone else's).
Hamburgers and pizza have to be eaten with a diet coke.
I have to wear flip flops in the house.
When I wake up at night I have to see what time it is. I'll even get out of bed to turn the clock if need be.
These are just a few of the many. As I continue to realize this aspect of myself, I continue on the humiliating blogging experience of self-disclosure. I'm starting to feel like Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally," where she orders the pie with no ice cream......
