Commitment is for Communists

I have never been accused of being a commitment phobe, most likely because the men of my past were preoccupied with my many other flaws which include, but are not limited to, dishonesty, confusion, anger, jealousy, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, and–first and foremost–sloth.  But the truth of the matter is that I am a commitment phobe of incredible proportions.  I cannot, in fact, commit to most anything, other than my aversion to commitment.

I am never able to commit to leaving or staying off Facebook–depending on how you look at it–although I’m making a good run of it this time, only because deleting my Facebook account is easier than complete committing to curb my online stalking habits.  I won’t even talk about dieting because no one can commit to doing that, and for almost a decade now I have been thinking that taking a break from drinking would be a good thing.  Thinking, however, is as far as it gets because one thing I can commit to is a love of hooch.  The other thing I can commit to is a love of cats and all things feline, which explains my affinity towards cats in my pants and my desire to put them in yours.

My commitment phobia is so pronounced that I can’t even commit to things that most people consider permanent.  I get tattoos removed, permanent piercings cut out, and once plucked all my eyebrows–OK that last one was a mistake.  Anyway, most important for purposes of this platform, you may or may not have noticed that I am a member of the Post A Day movement on WordPress, an effort I stuck with for less than a week.  I suppose I should take down the widget expressing my commitment, but I have never fully committed to being honest so I’m going to leave it up and pretend like it never happened, after I publish this post, that is.

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