I love it when someone memes me, yet I rarely respond to them. Why? I think it’s because I read what the other person wrote and tell myself I can’t write anything nearly as clever, ingenious, or meaningful. I still feel guilty because I never responded to Baol’s meme or Courtney’s.
I’m apologizing because I’m doing a meme today, but not responding to either of yours. Heck, I wasn’t even invited to do this particular one. I’m just following Kim’s lead.
I am: starting to feel restless. It’s nice outside but I want to go swimming. Unfortunately, there's nowhere for me to do this.
I think: I’m supposed to thank God for this next answer. But I’m not going to.
I thank: James for taking good care of me. He does.
I know: what I did last summer.
I wish: gas and food prices weren’t so high.
I hate: green beans.
I miss: waking up in Hawaii.
I feel: like a lusty seagull.
I shop: as little as possible. I hate shopping.
I hear: my dog barking and growling in her sleep.
I crave: a new purse. I really want a new purse.
I wonder: what it will be like to own a dishwasher.
I dream: about being a mom and having a family.
I love: lamp.
I care. That two word sentence sounds really sarcastic.
I always: have a hard time waking up, regardless of how many hours I’ve slept.
I celebrate: somewhere else. Our house is small; we only have two kitchen chairs.
I sing: horribly.
I cry: when I get really pissed off.
I don't always: silence my burps. I know it’s not lady like, but sometimes a burp deserves a good pull.
I totally write: the way I speak, dude.
I pray: I don’t.
I lose: stuff all the time. I like to say that I live somewhere between total organization and mass fucking chaos, but I actually live in a disaster zone.
I listen: to music when I'm by myself. Which is all day.
I am scared: for the planet. Humans seem to be destroying it.
I dance: all the time, and somehow I’m still horrible .
I need: a total makeover. Then, I need a personal shopper to help me maintain the makeover.
I surf: the Internet in lieu of watching tv.
I dread: going to the dentist.
I anticipate: our upcoming home renovations. Wait, maybe it’s dread that I'm feeling.
I laugh: at fart jokes.
Tag. Terra's it.
What the hell, Jessica, you're it, too.