I confess that sometimes I get annoyed with being hungry, because I have too much to do to stop and eat.
I confess that I have over a month to finish a 1,500-word article for a magazine, but I'm irrationally stressed out because it isn't done yet. Nevermind that I routinely write more than 1,500 words a day . . . .
I confess that I'm very annoyed with bookstores that don't post regular hours and only seem to be open when someone feels like showing up.
I confess that I'm working on creating a guide to independent bookstores in Austin, and doing the research is incredibly fun. I can't wait for this project to come to fruition.
I confess that my checkbook is missing in the bowels of my messy room and I'm going to need to take some time today to find it.
I confess I accidentally bought buttermilk at the store instead of regular milk, and I'm sorry it has to go to waste, but I cannot drink buttermilk. I even gave it a try just to see if I could. It's not possible.
I confess that I can actually get a lot of writing done in bars.