I like. I don’t. I am. Me. Who?

I like the morning. I dislike the afternoon.  I like to wake up early in the mornings, even on weekends.

I like sleeping with the curtains open so I can see outside when I wake up. I like the first full body stretch of the day. I dislike lights on in the house in the daytime. I like the moon and a clear night sky.

I like afternoon naps. I like being so tired that I can’t keep my eyes open. As long as it’s at a time when sleep is appropriate. And not dangerous.

I like running in the rain. I like pushing myself further each time. I like the dull ache of my muscles in the days after exercise. I like showers. Not baths.

I like it when my cats purr, and the little “brrrrt” noise they make when I’ve disturbed them from their sleep.

I like whisky. Neat. Always neat. Single Malt. I like red wine over white. I like it when I go to the bar of a pub and my drink is poured without the need to ask for it. That’s familiarity.

I like it when friends know how I take my coffee without needing to ask me. That’s also familiarity. I know that I make this awkward for my friends because I alternate between black coffee, and white coffee. Sometimes with sugar, sometimes without.

I like black tea, but I’ll only ever drink tea with milk in if I’m ill. Then I like sweet weak tea. Not milky. Weak. There’s a difference.

I like it when friends text me for no other reason than just to say hello, or how are you?. I like that they’re thinking of me when they don’t have to. I dislike it when I don’t get replies to texts I’ve sent. Especially if I’ve asked a question. Although I know I’m guilty of that myself.

I like a plan as long as it’s not a definite plan.  I like last-minute decisions. Usually made by someone else. I don’t make bad decisions, but I’m not good at making any decisions. I can’t make lists, but I admire people who can. I can be on time when I need to be, but more often than not, I’m late. Sometimes through choice. Maybe always through choice.

I like that I still have strong friendships from school in my adult life. I now understand the depth of childhood friendships. I know I didn’t appreciate that when they were formed all those years ago.

I like mashed parsnip. Ridiculous considering I loathe potatoes cooked that way. I detest them so much, that I can’t bring myself to write the words together. I like that people who know this about me avoid saying it. The thought of it repulses me. Maybe it’s a phobia. Either way it’s weird.

One of my favourite childhood books is ‘The Clown of God’. Truly amazing book, but clowns now unnerve me. The film ‘IT’ is to blame for that. Or rather Pennywise is to blame for that. Ultimately Stephen King is to blame for that.

I like black & white films. Especially ‘Goodbye Mr Chips’. I dislike horror films. I still re-read all my Roald Dahl books. I like reading books I read as a child. I like reading new books.

I like the smell of petrol but I dislike putting petrol in my car. I like the smell of a pipe and the noise of a drink being poured. I like the noise of gravel crunching. I dislike whistling and the noise of metal scraping against metal. I like open fires especially when they crack and pop.

I like playing with the magnetic poetry words my friends have on their fridge in their house. I like that those friends feel like my family.

I like Thursday night tea with my parents, and Sunday dinners at their house when everyone is there. Especially in the summer. I like playing in the garden afterwards with my niece and nephew. I like watching them grow up. I dislike the speed at which that is happening.

I like coincidences. I like serendipity. I like things I can’t explain. I dislike not being able to explain them. If only to myself. I like instinct. Gut instinct. I’m learning to trust mine more.

I like it when I solve a problem I had, or someone else’s for them. I like learning something new. I like trying something new. I like creating. I like creating memories and then cherishing them.

I like history. I like looking at really old photos of my family despite not knowing who most of them are. I like hearing stories about them. I like trying to imagine the world they lived in, and what they’d think of mine.

I like that I can usually acknowledge my faults. But I dislike them. All of them. I dislike that I don’t always see my strengths. I like the fact that those close to me can see them when I can’t.