1. Overwhelming guilt, even when I've technically done nothing wrong.
2. Penchant for adopting all cute dogs, like Dixie, Scrappy, and everyone at the fucking French Bulldog Village. Would you give me a break! Especially you, Paige!
3. Love handles. Yes, they're smaller, okay, but...really?! I mean, I've got the abs, I've got the overall athletic slenderness thing going on now, but REALLY?! Do you really need to stay? And what exactly do I have to do to get rid of you? What type of crunch, mileage to run, SPINACH TO EAT? Oh, there are hundreds of books to read to beat you on this, Love Handles, and they'll be read. Yes, they'll be read. Fuck "genetics," you bitches.
4. Over-apologizing. (Sorry, Love Handles.)
5. Procrastinating on things that really matter to me. (You, too, Novel.)
6. Procrastinating on getting the MFA. (Separately only because it's so ridiculous.)
7. The inability to socialize with strangers.
8. The inability to socialize with anyone, for longer than, let's say, 20 minutes.
9. The inability to STOP socializing with dogs.
10. The ability to stall out when making lists.