What does your handwriting say about you?

On the 11th day of October 2013, I was in Los Angeles. My family and I were traipsing around town (traipsing is my new favourite word) when we came across this handwriting analyser. According to him, a person’s handwriting reveals things about them and so he could tell certain traits about a person simply by looking at their handwriting. We decided to give it shot. I had to copy the following statement in my handwriting.

It is not because things are difficult that we don’t dare; it is because we do not dare that things are difficult.

He proceeded to perform his hocus pocus on my handwriting. The very first thing he said upon seeing my handwriting was

ProcrastinatorOh God how apt. I am the ultimate procrastinator: why do today what can be done next month along with the countless other things that I am supposed to have done? But this is a lucky guess. I’m sure 3.5 out of 4 people are chronic procrastinators (the 0.5 person probably has a mild case of the procrastinatis).

The next thing he said was that I love hot showers. Yes I do. The hotter the better. Scalding water, wash away the spirit of procrastination.

SlobAs a lady, I shall turn my nose up at this and make no further comment (but it is mildy true, thanks to the procrastinatis)

Crappy Swimmer: In other words, he could see I was black. Ha ha ha.

It gets interesting, to me anyways

He said that I have never broken a bone, which is so true. Never ever ever never has my skeletal system suffered any fracture. Luck or extreme cautiousness?

I get frustrated when I’m forced to make a decision when I am not ready. This could be anything from having to decide what colour to buy a bag in to deciding which one of my many suitors to marry. I am just so indecisive. It’s so annoying. I just don’t want to make any mistakes or regret anything.

I am repetitive with my food. If it ain’t broke, why break it?(or something like that). I have a very local unrefined taste palette. Unlike some people who travel around the world experimenting with different cuisines, sipping on elephant’s piss and nibbling on cobra toenails, I am completely adverse to trying new food. I just have this fear that I won’t like the food, then I would have wasted precious money. If I try something once and I like it, oh honey that’s going to be my source of nourishment for the next gazillion years.

My left leg is longer than my right: I don’t know anything about this.

There was something there about me being sensitive, which is true. I am quite sensitive. This may cause a few people who know me to raise their eyebrows and cock their heads to the side in disbelief. But though I may seem not to care, and I don’t most of the time, I am quite sensitive. I analyse the way people react to me, the words they say, their body language. The smallest thing gets me thinking. I might not even give the words or action a second thought on the spot, but then ages later I start to think “What did X really mean by that?” I can’t explain this (actually I can. I’m just too lazy to type out an explanation.)

I am a control freak: Control freak is too harsh to describe me. I might have opinions on how to do something but I wouldn’t label myself a control freak. I’m to lazy to be any type of a freak, be it a control freak, or a clean freak or a food freak or a sleep freak. Yup I’m too lazy to sleep.

So there you have it. A mini biography written by a random man on the street who met me for all of 5 minutes and subsequently drew out all of this accurate crap from his arse.


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