A few minutes ago, someone rang my doorbell.  I will never know who because when my husband is asleep, or not home, and my doorbell rings, I freeze.  I slide down in my chair and refuse to move.  It’s as if there is a t-rex at my door and if I move, he will find me and eat me.  I assume it was someone selling me Jesus or a home security system, but in the back of my mind I can’t help imagining it was a man selling candy from a van who wants to abduct me and my child and take us to his basement and force us to perform show tunes for the next 30 years.  This scenario got me thinking about other weird things I do-and I wonder who else does them.  Is it so weird?  You tell me.  Here are some weird things I do:

Depending on the day, I am sometimes a vegetarian-I love meat.  Meat is so good.  Chicken is my favorite. However, I am also quite picky about my meat.  I will tear a chicken tender into 11 bite-sized pieces, discarding the ones with any sort of connective tissue attached.  I probably only eat 60% of whatever meat I am served.  Sometimes, I will cook a delicious meal, but get so grossed out handling raw chicken that I can’t get past it and won’t eat any of it.  Once, I found a recipe to cook a whole chicken in a crock pot and it was too big to close the lid.  The only way it would fit was if I were to break the bones apart.  Nope.  I will not be dissecting dead bird today, thank you.  In the trash.  Pasta time.

Brushing my teeth is the worst moment of my day- I CANNOT just brush my teeth.  Standing there at the mirror and glancing around the room as I clean my grill is something I am not mentally capable of.  While I brush my teeth, I am always simultaneously completing another task.  If I load the dishwasher while doing this, it will go by faster.  This is total hell.  Perhaps, I could organize my bathroom drawer and pretend I’m not doing this.  **Phone rings** “Hello?  Hi, Mom.  I’m brushing my teeth.  You talk.  I’ll listen.”

I try to “act normal” around cops-  I feel bad even admitting this, because I am so grateful for law enforcement.  They are who I’d call if the man at the door was actually trying to sell me candy from his van.  However, whenever I’m alone in a public place, like a convenience store or a restaurant, and I see a cop-I immediately get nervous.  I wonder if for some reason, they think I’m a criminal. Maybe I look like somebody who just robbed a bank.  I try not to make eye contact and arouse suspicions.  It’s even worse going through customs at the airport and they ask me if I have anything to declare.  I declare I am an American citizen and have done nothing wrong!  Please, let me in.  

It’s not a blinker, it’s a metronome- If I’m sitting at a light, and my blinker is on for more than a few minutes, I MUST sing a song that goes along with its beat.  Dad and I even wrote one once called, “Ping Pong” to be sung exclusively with blinkers.  The lyrics are: Ping pong, ping pong, walla walla bing bong.  Ping pong ping pong, walla walla woo.  Walla walla walla walla ping pong….etc.  If someone else is in the car, I will hum it very, very, quietly to myself.  Okay, even I think this one is weird.

I don’t usually drink soda, but when I do, I drink it flat- BECAUSE IT BURNS MY MOUTH HOLE!  I don’t understand how one can just drink a soda.  It’s acidic and it literally burns my throat.  Correct way to drink a soda: 1. Pour soda into glass.  2. Put glass in fridge for 30 minutes 3. Drink delicious beverage that doesn’t disintegrate your esophagus.  You’re welcome.  If you think this is strange, know this:  When a feeding tube is clogged, pour soda in it.  Works every time.  You’re the weirdo drinking this stuff straight.  Not me.

I must sleep in complete darkness, but could nap in a tanning bed- All my windows are completely blacked out with classy meth lab grade trashbags.  I don’t even like an alarm clock in my room for fear that the light will reduce slumber quality, but during the day, I can nap anywhere, anytime, with all the windows open.  If I go to a hotel, I will cover any form of light with wash cloths, but could totally sleep at their pool with sunshine, splashing, and loud drunk people no problem.  This one doesn’t really make sense to me.  Disclaimer:  I don’t go to tanning beds.  If you saw my ghostly complexion, you’d already know that.

I pee before bed-and then again before sleep- This is a habit that annoys me so much, but there is nothing I can do about it.  I use the bathroom before bed thinking, “I won’t have to pee again before I fall asleep”, but every single daggum time I’m ready to sleep, my brain tells my bladder to tell my brain that it’s full.  So I get up and go.  My bladder lied.  I didn’t have to go.  Now, I have to start the process all over again.  Back to Words With Friends until I’m sleepy again.

People like to tell me I’m weird, and because I’m weird (and self-absorbed), I totally like to hear it-but are these things really that weird?  I don’t know.  I really don’t.