My tongue is absolutely destroyed. We got in a shipment of citric acid and I went to town. Once I felt the burning I drank a ton of water and did my best to dilute the acid and minimize the damage, but it was to no avail. I hope it doesn’t ruin our New Year’s Eve celebration tonight. Becca doesn’t know it, but I’m going to leave work early to start the celebration sonner than planned. That way we can spend more time anticipating midnight, the end of the old us, and the beginning of the new us. Phrenology is very interesting to me. I like to take the little I know about it and assume I know everything. I have a ridge in my skull that indicates Approbativeness, Concientiosness, and Hope. Other bumps indicate Combativeness and Vitativeness. I feel like I’m learning a lot about myself. The problem is that my diagnosis changes depending on the chart I look at. They all seem to be pretty different. I think I’ll do it with all the charts until I find the one that seems to be the most accurate description of my thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and aptitudes. That’s good science right? If that chart is correct for me, it would be correct for everyone right? Of course it would be.
Vitativeness. I had to look up what this one means. Apparently it is the love of life and fear of death. I suppose I love life and fear death. Suicide has never been that appealing to me. Mostly because I think it’s inconsiderate, rather than because of a fear of death. You cause so much paperwork for people, and someone has to find you, and they have to clean up whatever mess you made. Even if I felt like no one would miss me and everyone would be better off, I think of the poor person who has to type up the police report.
Approbativeness. I had to look this one up too. I think it’s the desire for praise and recognition. That sounds like me. If it means the desire to give praise and recognition, no, that’s not me. Needless to say, the self-esteem section of my skull is as flat as a pancake.
If the mole on my head counts as a bump, it represents Secretiveness. Cool. From now on I’ll refer to my mole as my “sneaky mole”, but only in a whisper.
