I am a deviant. I have saved just enough rope to hang myself.
I am an expert in Crazy 8s, doing nothing & wandering about. I have had thirty years to perfect my craft.
I stay one place just long enough not to wear out my welcome, but long enough to escape from my monotonus grind of house chores. I My daily vices keep my mind from wandering, and the constant inhalation of coffee keeps me alert.
Unbeknownst to my family, I am a closet personality. Which means, I put my personality in the closet when I am around my family. The “real me”, as they see it, is the crafty, cookie baking, laundry meister I am. I live to pick up after anyone who doesn’t care enough to do it themselves, I happily taxi, lend money and ask if there is anything more I could do.
I have a deviant side that remains adolescent, and then there’s my other deviant side that tries to hide that fact that I am faking my life. SShhh….I’m not here. It wasn’t me… and anyways, how did you know?