Sometimes I talk to myself. Which is not that crazy. Many people do this. But sometimes, when I talk to myself, no sound comes out. But my lips still move. Like I'm lip syncing some dialogue in my head. And I have no idea I'm doing it. No doubt this seems absolute batshit crazy to innocent passerby. I'll make an excellent bag lady someday.
During my brief stint in Television, I worked on a show where we put hidden cameras in cars and filmed people acting like fools, which they did because they thought they were in their cars alone. It was a dumbass show and I'm not proud of my small contribution to it. But ever since, I've been secretly scared that there's a hidden camera in my car. And my dumbass antics will end up on TV. Which is terrifying. And irrational.
Maybe it's my musical background or the many years of dancing, but I find myself compulsively counting. I'll count my steps (just to 8 and then start over) while I walk. I'll count syllables when listening to a speaker or lecture, sometimes beating the syllables out with my fingers. I count my bites when I chew. It's odd. And I kind of hate it. But I can't stop.
When I was a child, a friend of mine told me that Mr. Rogers hated me and that when he looked right at you, it meant he wanted to kill you. We were young and she probably doesn't even remember that. But I was scared of Mr. Rogers as a child and he still gives me the creeps.
I have to do things in a certain order. Like when I shower, for example, there is a specific order that I clean myself. If I deviate from that order, I'll forget a step and then the world will implode. This is, obviously, a challenge when I travel. I love to travel, but because my routine is all wonky, I'll forget to take my vitamins or I'll put on makeup before I put on lotion or I'll have to go back to my room 15 times for something I've forgotten. And then the world implodes.
I like things clean, but who doesn't? More than cleanliness, I like order. My order. My crazy order of my universe. For instance, I have these black and white plates and bowls. In the cupboard, they must alternate black, white, black, white. And I move them as needed to make them alternate. Or I know that the coffee table is in the perfect position in relation to the couch and I'll know if it's moved, so just don't, yo. On that same note, when I go to a restaurant, I have to organize the table. The salt and pepper, the sugar packets (organized by color and facing the same direction) and the general symmetry of the place settings, etc. Yeah, I'm pretty much nuts. And the annoying one in my group of friends. But they put up with me because I'm so cute. Like a red headed bunny on crack.
Enough of my crazy. I want to hear yours. What's your crazy? Don't be shy. Wave your freak flag high!
1 week ago