My computer started fritz-ing recently and I panicked. Not because I thought of the repairs or possible replacement costs, but because 90% of my computer’s border is covered in stickers. Rainbows and sparkles kinds of stickers.
In my 20’s, I dated a guy who kept saying, “Tattoo the world!” And then he’d slap some skate company’s sticker on a pole or building. I never understood him or his own sticker fetish.
My stickers are private. I don’t want to share them with the world. Even now that I’m blogging a lot of (possibly silly) ideas, it…still doesn’t feel right to take my computer into the shop and say, “Hey, my daughter broke her computer and, whoa! does she like stickers or what?”
I don’t have a daughter. Or a son. Never will.
I just have stickers. And a few pretty awesome sticker collection books from my childhood. That was an awesome era when stickers and sticker trading ruled.
Luckily, my computer only had a software issue that self-corrected. And, I don’t have to defend my love of shiny, bright enigmas filling my adult life with smiles.