Has anyone ever told you they wanted to grow up to be a mouse? Why would anyone aspire to be such a small, obnoxious creature you ask? The simple answer to that would be because Mice are very cute, very small, and very fast. All of which I have had the pleasure of (or I’ve been told) sharing the same characteristics. I did not want to grow up to be a mouse. Yet here we are, and I don’t have any complaints.
I grew up wanting to be an author. I grew up drawing on paper, sticking them together, and eagerly passing them to my mom to read aloud. She read every last one of them. Thanks mom. You’re a trooper for sitting through as many stick figures and scribbles.
This page is getting rather long for my liking, and half of it hardly makes any sense. Feel free to call me Mouse. I reside in the overwhelmingly sunny side of southern California, currently nineteen years old, and to be quite frank my hair is probably alive. This is all for now.
Have a good day.