These Are My Confessions

I'm linking up with Leslie to share my deepest darkest secrets.
Here we go:

I confess that I get an overwhelmingly large sense of satisfaction from putting papers through the shredder


I confess that I am nervous about the temperatures that Mr. Weatherman is going to bring us this summer.

It snowed a total of maybe three times this winter (and for New York state that is UNHEARD of) so I'm pretty scared we'll hover around 95 degrees all summer long. And that my friends would be death.

I confess that I ate scrambled eggs and mashed up tater tots (my 30 second form of hash browns) every night this week for dinner. 

I'm a creature of habit until one day I'm just completely over it...and then I obsess over a new food. I'm a freak.  

I confess that I'm having a dilemma about whether to make corona cupcakes or margaritas with lime sorbet for tomorrow's festivities. 

I confess that I woke up singing Rebecca Black "It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday." 

I confess that I will throw grapes away as soon as they become slightly mushy. They must be able to crunch/pop/burst in between my teeth or else they're goners. 

I confess that this work day should have been over 74 minutes ago when I walked in the door.

I confess that my over-sized Audrey Hepburn painting that hangs opposite my bed has made me jump out of my skin many times when waking up in the middle of the night. She might need to find a new wall to call home.

I confess that I purposefully didn't drink water after 7pm last night in hopes that I wouldn't wake up 2+ times to go to the bathroom. Epic failure.


I confess that yesterday ended horribly.
It's safe to say that the entire Yankee community, and perhaps the entire Major League Baseball community, was dumbfounded last night when Mariano Rivera got hurt. 
Seeing the most dignified, humble, and greatest reliever to ever play the game crumpled up on the field was devastating. 
He had already told reporters that his mind was made up on whether he would retire after this season. In many eyes, including mine, that meant that this would be his last season to shine on the mound. 
 I don't care whether you're a Red Sox fan, or if you know absolutely nothing about baseball - this man deserved to end his stellar career in any way other than a torn ACL. 
I hope to heavens that this doesn't end his season, let alone his entire pitching career.