I hate surprises. Not only do I hate surprises, but I ritualistically ruin said surprises for other people. Let’s imagine for a minute that you and I are sitting in your living room, watching the season of Top Shot 2 on your Netflix. We may be sipping jack and diets, eating popcorn and just enjoying the program, or I may be divulging the entire plot of the series as whole within the first five minutes of the program. I’d made snide remarks about Jay Lin, golf instructor extraordinaire, and tell you how glad I was when he was kicked off. I’d swoon each time that George, in all of his Air Force Sniper glory graced the screen and recover by making not-so-vague comments about the series finale. At this point, you would either politely tell me to shut up or walk out of the room in search of another TV, devoid of my series-ruining self. My whole problem is that I have a condition called “havetoknoweverythingNOWitis”. Hence, my need to know everything at all times can cause some problem. I get excited when I watch shows akin to Top Shot, so excited in fact that when we DVR anything, I fast-forward in order to see who wins. I then restart the episode and enjoy it, knowing who reigned victorious and who fell in the arms of defeat.
The Writing huntress
I hunt. I write. I wear what some consider an unnecessary amount of camouflage face paint.