Well-done, though Medium-Rare would certainly be adequate

Let us start off this thought train with a little bit of hypocritical choo-choo. Though my inaugural entry suggests that self-categorization is an inaccurate form of first-person description, I feel somewhat compelled to hit you with a little knowledge. [My deepest apologies for the discrepancy].

I’ve always been bothered by the “describe-yourself-in-one-worder’s” of the world. And it’s not just the previously mentioned inaccuracy that gets me. One-word descriptions just cannot possibly capture the true and complete essence of someone’s being, can they?

Hmm.

Earlier today, I had a miniature epiphany at work. After washing my hands, and with the lack of air dryer, I turned to the far less eco-friendly option – paper towels. It wasn’t until my hands were completely dry and I was crumpling the used sheets up in a ball that I realized how many I used – three. Now three may not sound like that many, but think about it. I have, what, twelve square-inches to remove moisture from? And I need thirty-six square inches of paper product to do so? I think not.

This started a more-than-necessary extension of thought. I began to consider what other over-the-top habits of mine may be going unnoticed. Here’s what I came up with:

- I lock my car three times every single time I get out of it. Not harming the environment, but not a vital process by any means.
- I take pictures of everything and everyone when my camera is out of its case – and often of the same groups of people over and over. And over.
- When I am caught off-guard by something humorous, the duration of my laughter is easily nineteen times that of everyone around me.
- Once upon a time, I discovered a love for Sharpies – and to this day I will purchase any variety of the stinky marker that is introduced to the school-supply market. [And don’t even get me started on my obsession with school supplies in general.]
- I apply at least three more coats of chapstick beyond the mere one that would suffice.
- When I cry, it is essentially unstoppable. An indescribable wave of sadness washes over me.
- I won’t leave the house until every single wave is straightened out of my hair.
- Love pours out of me like an enormous amount of water pent up behind a dam. And it floods into each and every relationship I am a part of. I often devote more attention to my friends’ happiness than I do my own. As a girlfriend, I love with all walls down and vulnerability up. I carry the weight of my family’s problems because I can’t help but share their burdens. The bright side, however, suggests that when they are on top of the world, I’m right next to them.
- The barista at the Starbucks I frequent knows my name…and my drink.
- When my nail polish is chipped, I pick all of it off – because I can’t stand the inconsistency.
- If someone asks me how I am on a good day, I’ll usually go straight to “exceptional.”
- I pack eleven shirts for a three day trip.
- When trying to briefly describe myself – I muster up thirteen demonstrative pieces of information.

And that’s just it. I’ve stumbled upon the one-word key to understanding all I encompass:

I am excessive.