If strangers summarized me based on Twitter, Facebook, or well, anything, they’d know I have four not-so-secret obsessions:
1. Hoarders
Not sure why this is my favorite psychological disorder (…or why I even have a favorite psychological disorder in the first place), but it is. I’ve read lots of books and research articles on it, as well as watched 459945 episodes of the various shows about hoarding. (And yes, my heart is innerly thrilled a little bit when I pass a messy, packed car that obviously belongs to a hoarder.)
2. Downton Abbey
Honestly, this series is so fantastic that I only have two words for anyone who doesn’t love it: I’m sorry.
3. My intense hatred of wearing pants. Ugh.
Pants are just literally the worst thing ever and I cannot for the life of me explain why! I own more skirts and dresses (12 and 15 to be exact) than your average Forever 21 store. Okay, that’s hyperbole, but my friends can usually tell if I’m having a rough morning if I’m wearing jeans. I saw this Pinterest pin once that said “Wear clothes your boyfriend can’t” and despite a few logical holes in that argument and the inapplicability to me as I am as single as a Beyonce song, it kind of works for this situation.
And 4. John freaking Mayer.
In fact, I’m listening to his live album as I write this post. From February to August 2011, literally ALL I listened to every single day was John Mayer (with a little Adele thrown in there) and I never, ever got tired of hearing “Assassin,” “Dreaming With A Broken Heart,” “Edge of Desire,” the list goes on and on. (Yes, that time period was my version of angst over a relationship, thanks for asking.) I mean, come on. How can you not love his music? I can literally go on and on with my analyses and interpretations of some of my favorites, but I’ll spare you that bit of crazy.
theaccidentalextrovert.wordpress.com 
John Mayer’s exquisite angst ruins people’s lives. He’s a life ruiner.