Only the Half of It

I can
ID and recognize fonts anywhere especially on menus, determine the weight of paper by touching it, list all the state capitals, use every shortcut available especially in anything Adobe (on the contrary I cannot tell you where anything is located in a menu) daydream to the point of insanity, fantasy trip plan, spend an entire day at work having not done any actual work, eat the same thing for breakfast lunch and dinner, make one hell of a photo collage, envision lots of things I could never actually make, envy the hell out of the Print Design Annual and dream of one day making it, dream of working for Target, moving to Chicago and then Minneapolis or Berlin, count to ten in a lot of different languages, say "This is a gray bunny" in German, play the piano, the flute and once upon a time, the oboe, listen to the same song one-hundred or more times in a row, roll my tongue three times, worry about almost anything, read a book in one day, feel the titanium screw in my knee, find my way around a foreign city via pubic transportation, waste the entire morning in bed, never get sick of home renovation shows or reruns of Friends, spend three hours on the phone, laugh until my face hurts, cry until my jaw hurts, recover from a broken heart, finish what I started

I cannot
remember the last time I made my bed when I woke up, started work right at 9, got to work right at 9 or read Wired cover-to-cover before the next one arrived, drink whole milk even in coffee, see the point of decaff coffee, eat broccoli, stand the thought of touching chicken or read meat, properly use a ruler to measure anything, start my day without listening to NPR, get to work without my iPod, stand riding the subway at rush hour, write with blue ink, use Windows without getting annoyed, easily admit when I am wrong, say the word singlet, refrain from making up my own words, help but sing in the shower, often remember my own phone number, eat pizza for breakfast, fall out of love quickly, imagine leaving Manhattan, live in the suburbs, drive a minivan, play chess, laugh enough