I’m in the midst of a lovely day off, and our Internet was just restored to us after it took a few days off, and I’m tired to reading a book that is not Pride and Prejudice because P&P was checked out of the library–so I thought perhaps I would update le blog with a reflection that is of exactly zero importance and is guaranteed not to enrich your life. For once, I’m not being sarcastic.
It all started when I turned to my roommate this afternoon and asked, “Do you ever have nightmares in which you’re walking down the aisle and you just know that this is all wrong and you really, really don’t want to marry the man, but you feel like you can’t speak up?”
Carole blinked a little. “Nope.”
“Oh,” said I. “I. . .um. . .yeah, neither do I.” I need to learn to play my hand a little closer to my chest.
That exchange caused me to ponder those things about which I am entirely and irrationally paranoid. Things like:
1) Finding a snake in my car (it happened to my roommate’s mom). Oh, and for those of you who think it would be cute to stick a rubber snake in my front seat, I do not kid when I say that my proposed plan of action upon seeing such snake is to shriek “Goodbye, cruel world!’ and speed headlong into the nearest large solid object, be it an oak tree, telephone pole, or boulder. So it’d be a great strategy for homocide, but if you have anything less than deathly hatred in your heart for me, it’s not the best prank to pull. I am in deadly earnest.
2) Getting tricked into marrying someone I don’t like. I hate it when people tell those stories about how they initially hated their significant others. “Yeah, I thought he was stupid and immature and annoying and ugly. But then I got to know him, and now I’m so happy.” While I have no doubt in my mind that they truly are happy with their stupid/immature/annoying/ugly partner, I live in terror of looking back on my first days of acquaintanceship with the future Mr. and thinking, “Oh yeah–the sight of your face made me gag.” Which I fear would then be followed by–“Oh yeah. It still kind of does. I actually don’t like you at all–I just mistook indigestion for true love.” I have a ton of weird romance-related paranoias. We can talk about them sometime, while I stretch out on a leather couch and you charge me $135 an hour.
3) Finding a snake in the toilet. When I was in 4rd grade or so, my dad was listening to talk radio, and the host mentioned a story about a man who had found a boa constrictor in his toilet. I avoided ground-level toilets for the next 8 years with the reasoning that it would be harder for a snake to get through the pipes to the second floor.
4) Falling while walking up a flight of stairs and breaking my two front teeth on said stairs.
5) Being beheaded from the front. I would greatly prefer to be guillotined, so I would be facing away from the blade–the thought of a blade going through the Adam’s apple part of my neck makes me squirmy. On a similar note, I don’t like the idea of waking up to find an ax murder standing over me. If you want me dead, just stick a snake in my car, dude.
So what about y’all? What weird and irrational paranoias plague you?