And you call yourself a blogger.

I call myself a writer, yet I can't even remember to update my own blog more than once a week.

I'm beginning to wonder if I'm genetically inclined to be an idiot. I mean, I honestly think that I would make a great case study for any psychologist.

Dad- Hard-working guy that loves to tell jokes [many of them are actually very funny]. Also a very analytic businessman with attention to details of planning. Plan, plan, plan. Not in the plan? HOLY CRAP THE WORLD MIGHT END.

Mom- Enjoys the beauty of life. Loves her days out in her yard or on her deck. And her computer games. Never ceases to strike up a conversation with someone. Bagger at the grocery store. Cashier at the department store. Garbage man. Dog. May also be found talking to the kitchen curtains...

Brother #1 [15 years older]- Musician. Super-talented, but still feels the tug of responsibility. May be slightly retarded. [But I only say that because I love him. And because he thinks he's Paul McCartney.]

Brother #2 [12 years older]- Dedicated to his group and his business. And, much like Dad, very hard-working. Excellent cook. And golfer. Has a strange addiction to eBay, craigslist and local auctions. Always buying and selling, buying and selling. May be better suited for a career on Wall Street.

What does that make me?

Paige- Likes to plan. Plan, plan, plan. Drops plan when shiny object enters view. Recovers by planning. New plan falls through. Suffers slight identity crisis and believes herself to be a spy. Or a rock star. Recovers by striking up conversations with strangers and household pets.

So next time you ask yourself, "Say, why has Paige neglected her blog for an entire week? And what happened to her plan of starting a website?" Rest assured that I am having an intense conversation with a ficus tree.