1. Link the person who tagged you…In my case, Jill.
2. Post these rules.
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag 6 fellow bloggers by linking them
OK, I have plenty of quirks, but I thought I would go with a little bit of a theme on this one. Actually, I had been thinking about writing a post about some of my irrational fears. Those certainly qualify as quirks, right? So, here you go–six “quirky” fears of mine:
- I am afraid of flying. The last time I was on an airplane was exactly nine years ago this week (that would have been my honeymoon). I used to watch planes fly overhead and wait for them to explode. I wanted to be able to give a complete description of what happened to the 911 operator if/when it happened (sadly, I am not exaggerating).
- I don’t like when Sean drives somewhere with all of the kids in the car with him. I can’t help but think about the fact that my entire family could be gone in one car accident and I would be alone (sorry, I know that’s depressing–Sean has suggested that it is also worthy of medication).
- I have a heavy, wooden, antique music stand in my living room. W~ tried to climb it once and if fell on him (amazingly, he wasn’t hurt–as usual). Because of this, I will not lay the baby anywhere it would land if it fell over. Even if he and I are the only people in the house. If Sean lays him in front of it, I move him.
- Remembering that I live next door to the house that I grew up in–since I was a kid, I have had occasional nightmares about my back yard catching on fire. Having the power line snap and scorch a tree last month was, in no way, helpful.
- When I get really stressed, I have nightmares about elevators. I will be in the elevator and it will go to the top floor, then the cable will let loose and the elevator will plummet almost to the ground, catch, go back to the top, and repeat. Sometimes, it will start flipping over. Do you want to guess how I feel about riding more than one or two floors in an elevator? Oh, and the really crazy part (as if this wasn’t already crazy enough…): It seems to be hereditary. Yep, that’s right. The first time I told my mom that I had elevator nightmares, she lit up and described them perfectly to me. Because she gets them when she’s stressed out, too. Um, yeah.
- OK, this one’s the kicker. The one where you will officially think that I’m looney. Because, really, all of the other fears aren’t completely irrational. There is some real element of danger in each of them. This one? Sheer nutso. If I need to use the restroom in the middle of the night, I will not look at my reflection while I am washing my hands. And why? Because I am afraid that if I acknowledge my reflection, it just might attack me in some demonic, horror flick kind of a way. Really, I’m a grown woman. I know better. It doesn’t help. You know what else doesn’t help? The stupid commercial for the movie Mirrors that comes out next month.
So, there you go. Six of my *ahem* quirks. All donations of Xanax will be happily accepted.
Who should I tag?