I share multiple addictions with millions of women across the world.
Chocolate? I can't remember a day when I haven't had chocolate.
Coffee? Some mornings, I feel like there aren't enough hours before bedtime for me to keep drinking the caffeinated warmth.
Hot showers? If we had invested in one of those endless water heaters instead of our small tank a few years back, I'd venture to guess our water bill would cost more than our house payment.
Pajamas? There must be more of us out there who could absolutely live in pajamas. I can't be the only woman to run to the grocery or pharmacy in them (they rarely look surprised when I do that).
Maybe they aren't addictions at all. Just creature comforts. Normal, justifiable, cozy comforts.
The other day, though, I realized I may have a problem that classifies in the complete opposite category than normal.
When Sprinkles took off with my home pregnancy test in her mouth, the primary thought in my head was "Eww, gross. That's got pee on it." Not "crap, now I don't know if I'm pregnant or not." Because honestly, I already know I'm not. It's a habit. Not a normal one, I'm fairly certain, but one that has been going on for a decade or so in our bathroom.
So on my list of improvements I want to make this year, avoiding the planned parenting aisle at the pharmacy is going at the top of the list. Not wearing my pajamas to the pharmacy, at this point, will have to wait.
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