I've got myself all worked up about a thing and a boy, and I can't settle.
So, rather than write another post that's going to get me into trouble, I thought I'd share something a bit more inconsequential, and ultimately cathartic, inspired by a documentary I just watched on the making of Jaws.
Well, cathartic or stroke-inducing. Let's see.
(Or, Why I Should Probably Be Under The Care Of A Psychiatrist)
Fairly common, except that I am rendered mute and motionless by them. So, when they eventually organise an attack, I will be useless.
They give me the heebie jeebies. I'm only actually FRIGHTENED of ones that are really thin when you look at them from the front, but not when you look at them from a different angle.
Blue ones, specifically. They are too big and too invisible. You could be in the sea and have one of them underneath you and not even know. Granted, you'd have to be quite a way in, but I think my point still stands. Also, it's all well and good saying they're not going to eat you, but one of these things could SNIFF and you'd probably be dragged under.
Meat That Is Still Animal-Shaped
I enjoy chicken nuggets, but I would rather rip my own face off than eat a chicken leg. I can't even watch someone eat one without breaking into a sweat. Apply this to all meat. I like my food well and truly processed, thank you.
I don't really mind listening to them when I am in a safe place with no violins around, so it doesn't affect my enjoyment of popular music. However, I feel a horrible and instinctive need to shield my eyes when I see them, regardless of my proximity to them, and particularly if they are being played. It's a very physical reaction, and leads me to believe that I would have to be put into a padded room were I to accidentally touch one.
Foxes That Have Been Turned Into Scarves
If you ever watched Round The Twist, I suspect that you remember the episode in which a dead fox starts coming to life in a cupboard and cries about a lemon tree. If you don't, I would strongly suggest that you don't go looking for it. This has been the basis of a recurring nightmare that has haunted me for ABOUT eighteen years.
Piles Of Paper
I'm okay with a pile of paper that includes no more than, say, ten sheets. However, I would slit my own throat before I'd be the one in the office to open a new packet of paper and put it in the printer. I was once caught trying to use two rulers as chopsticks to avoid touching too many paper edges at once. There are worries that this could impede my professional development.
The little metal ones. I have no idea. I think this is another eye-related thing, like the violin business.
The Flappy Bit Of Skin Between Your Index Finger And Your Thumb
I've been forced to develop a way of washing my hands that makes contact with that bit of skin as trauma-free as possible. Sometimes, though, when I'm feeling a bit self-destructive, I touch it to see how long it will take to give myself a nervous breakdown. Like how some people poke their stitches or touch their eyeball to bother people.
I think I've covered all the things that I don't mind telling people about.
You saw 'spiders' and thought that this would be lovely and straightforward, didn't you? Silly reader.