Describe One of Your Bad Habits and Why You Secretly Get Joy Out of It.

I’m not a cigarette smoker, though I’ve dabbled. I’m not much of a junk food eater, but I love a good dessert, and I follow a few TV shows but I’m really not one to binge. But okay, I’ll admit it – I do procrastinate when it comes to the boring topics, pick at my cuticles when the silence is uncomfortable, and perhaps spend too much time getting to know a person via Facebook pictures, but I wouldn’t consider these bad habits ones that secretly bring me joy. (Are they even that bad?) I think they just simply come with the territory of being a college student in the year 2014. I grew up with Instant Messaging, YouTube, and endless amounts of information right at my fingertips. Procrastination is not a secretly joyous bad habit but an inevitable occurrence brought on by the giant time suck that are listicles, grumpy cats, and 11 minutes of WTF did I just watch by Lady Gaga. And the joy of stalking is not exactly a secret – half the time you don’t even know it’s happening. But I do suppose there is one bad habit I have, one I’m sure is not necessarily common among all of us millennials. And this one most definitely brings about joy, truly brings about nothing but pure bliss.

It began as just a small form of rebellion, an in-your-face to those who taught me manners and etiquette, and then became much worse in college when I had to wash my own dishes. I’m talking about drinking out of the milk carton, sticking a finger or two in the peanut butter jar, digging a hand into the cereal box, and a little something I like to call “evening it out.”

Hollywood has unfortunately turned drinking out of the milk carton into a frowned-upon act committed by that low-life lazy guy in sweats, mid-afternoon. But why, Hollywood, why? What is so bad about opening the refrigerator, taking out that cold, creamy beverage and drinking it gulp after gulp until I’ve had enough? It is nothing but a hassle to have to pour it into a glass, a perfectly clean glass. And in my experience, I have found that it is always best to avoid hassles.

But I suppose if it were not frowned upon, my joy in it would not be as immense. These habits bring my inner-child into a fit of giggles. There is just something so delightfully mischievous in opening a jar of peanut butter and scooping out a little with my index finger or peeking into a box of cereal and taking out a fistful of the best parts. And of course, there is nothing quite as satisfying as taking a fork to the dessert on the counter and making sure what’s left is cut into perfectly straight lines, even if that means cutting off a regular-sized portion one forkful at a time. (This method can be applied to ice cream as well.)

I’ve discussed my ways with fellow rebels and have heard such things as, “I’m doing a courtesy by making it look nice” or “no need to dirty a plate when it’s not a full piece.” Well, enough with the euphemisms, people! We mustn’t be ashamed of that which brings us joy. We must take pride in these habits. My secret is out: I practice poor etiquette alone in my kitchen late at night and I’m proud! Now, who’s with me?!

…Anyone?  No? Okay, screw it. Let’s watch Lady Gaga do weird things:

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