Little Miss Fusspot
Since I was a child, I've been called "Little Miss Fusspot".
Whether it be because of the mention of me disliking all fish (minus fish-fingers interestingly) or the fact that I will only eat one particular kind of tomato (cherry tomatoes - whole, not chopped).
I mean, honestly!
Is it really that hard to buy canned mussels instead of fresh?
My whole life this term has been hung over my head and today I say - NO MORE!
Only joking.
This is not a "What a hard life I have" post.
This is a "I'm an awful excuse for a human being" post.
Wow, that sounded creepily like an M&S advert -
"This is not just a random Carenza-Fleur post.
This is an insanely whiny first world problems random Carenza-Fleur post"
Anyway.
This is more of an apology than anything else, and gawd knows my friends and family deserve one for having to put up with me for so long!
I'm called Little Miss Fusspot because in my life everything has to be exactly how I like it, or else I'll have a major Bathtub Breakdown...
...ahem...
I'll give you a few quick examples:
1. Buffets.
Is it just me that thinks buffets are incredibly stressful?!
I mean how many times is it socially acceptable to go up and get more food?
Do you pile your plate up so that you only have to go a few times?
Or take a little often?
What if I get just spring rolls? Is that allowed in polite company? Do I get desert? What do I order as my drink?
Help.
So yeah, basically buffets are the creation of Satan but, my main thing is that you have to order your drink and wait for it to arrive before going up for food.
I don't care how many funny looks I get when my whole family ditch me for food and I'm left sitting there.
I will wait for this drink!
2. I have a set way of getting undressed.
It always has to be shorts first and socks last or else I feel like I've betrayed myself.
Don't ask me why.
3. Food Segregation
The food on my plate can never meet.
The sauces go in a pile in the corner and everything else has its own space, not touching anything else.
I seriously cannot deal with people who just have a full on food orgy on their plate.
Everything mixed up - it's horrific.
Never trust someone who does that.
Never.
4. I have to, have to, empty the dishwasher in my specific way.
I empty the dishwasher everyday so I've worked out the best little routine.
It goes; bottom layer, top layer, cutlery.
It's not hard and it means I can do my chore without thinking.
Unfortunately for my crazy-brain, occasionally someone wants to help.
I always enthusiastically agree to their offer, thanking them as if they've just saved my first-born, but then THEY MESS WITH MY METHOD.
This so called 'help' will switch between upper and lower shelves making my whole system useless and I swear down at that moment the only thing on my mind is the need to curb-stomp (google it!) that b*tch till she learns to stick to the system.
Yeah...
So I'm rather passionate about my dishwasher.
Now do you understand why I'm called Little Miss Fusspot?! (and freako but yanno).
I will now apologize again, as after reading this back I have terrified even myself.
Goodnight
xxx
PS: If anyone wants to draw me as one of the Mr Men, feel free :)
Whether it be because of the mention of me disliking all fish (minus fish-fingers interestingly) or the fact that I will only eat one particular kind of tomato (cherry tomatoes - whole, not chopped).
I mean, honestly!
Is it really that hard to buy canned mussels instead of fresh?
My whole life this term has been hung over my head and today I say - NO MORE!
Only joking.
This is not a "What a hard life I have" post.
This is a "I'm an awful excuse for a human being" post.
Wow, that sounded creepily like an M&S advert -
"This is not just a random Carenza-Fleur post.
This is an insanely whiny first world problems random Carenza-Fleur post"
Anyway.
This is more of an apology than anything else, and gawd knows my friends and family deserve one for having to put up with me for so long!
I'm called Little Miss Fusspot because in my life everything has to be exactly how I like it, or else I'll have a major Bathtub Breakdown...
...ahem...
I'll give you a few quick examples:
1. Buffets.
Is it just me that thinks buffets are incredibly stressful?!
I mean how many times is it socially acceptable to go up and get more food?
Do you pile your plate up so that you only have to go a few times?
Or take a little often?
What if I get just spring rolls? Is that allowed in polite company? Do I get desert? What do I order as my drink?
Help.
So yeah, basically buffets are the creation of Satan but, my main thing is that you have to order your drink and wait for it to arrive before going up for food.
I don't care how many funny looks I get when my whole family ditch me for food and I'm left sitting there.
I will wait for this drink!
2. I have a set way of getting undressed.
It always has to be shorts first and socks last or else I feel like I've betrayed myself.
Don't ask me why.
3. Food Segregation
The food on my plate can never meet.
The sauces go in a pile in the corner and everything else has its own space, not touching anything else.
I seriously cannot deal with people who just have a full on food orgy on their plate.
Everything mixed up - it's horrific.
Never trust someone who does that.
Never.
4. I have to, have to, empty the dishwasher in my specific way.
I empty the dishwasher everyday so I've worked out the best little routine.
It goes; bottom layer, top layer, cutlery.
It's not hard and it means I can do my chore without thinking.
Unfortunately for my crazy-brain, occasionally someone wants to help.
I always enthusiastically agree to their offer, thanking them as if they've just saved my first-born, but then THEY MESS WITH MY METHOD.
This so called 'help' will switch between upper and lower shelves making my whole system useless and I swear down at that moment the only thing on my mind is the need to curb-stomp (google it!) that b*tch till she learns to stick to the system.
Yeah...
So I'm rather passionate about my dishwasher.
Now do you understand why I'm called Little Miss Fusspot?! (and freako but yanno).
I will now apologize again, as after reading this back I have terrified even myself.
Goodnight
xxx
PS: If anyone wants to draw me as one of the Mr Men, feel free :)
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