Today I decided that I am just plain neurotic. No hiding from this fact anymore. Touched in the head. Neurotic. The definition of who I am.
For the past 21 years of my life, I've given myself excuses for my....oddities. Oh, I just act that way because I am ________. (Please fill in the blank with any of the following applicable responses: tired, sick, hungry, full, sad, happy, school is stressing me out, hormonal, homesick, and then there's my favorite "it's the holidays" excuse--definitely a classic). But now it is time to face facts. Allow me to illustrate with a few examples:
Today I couldn't write how I was feeling unless I was on the "Posting" screen for the blog. I can't write unless I am on this screen!!!! Do you know how many times I have written things on this screen only to never be posted? I write, copy and paste it to a Word document, and then save it in a little folder called: "Blog posts that are never posted because I can't write openly unless I am on the blog screen, and I can't actually post everything I write on the blog because if I did then it would flood the Writing Center page and it would only be evidence of my neurosis!" Okay. It's actually not called that. It's just called "Blog Posts" but you get the idea. This one probably won't even get posted, now that I think of it.
I cry-- a lot. And for no reason most times. What is this exactly evidence of? I don't know. I just know it happens and that I don't think it is normal. End of example.
I bought my husband a bonsai tree for Valentine's Day. That, in and of itself, I don't feel is neurotic, but my deliberation of the purchase was. I thought of the idea a few days before. I googled, "Bonsai trees Hershey, Pennsylvania" and what do you know? A store shows up completely devoted to the nurturing and growing of bonsai trees. And aptly named "Nature's Way." The next day I set out to find this place. First I get lost (as usual) but eventually I find it. The shop is out of a person's home. There's a big sign out front that says "Nature's Way" and I can see a greenhouse looking thing attached to the house. But I hesitate and my brain begins to think. What if this isn't actually a shop that sells bonsai trees? What if this is some way to lure nature seeking neurotics to one place? What if as soon as I go to the door I'll get hit over the head with a frying pan and sold into the slave market across the world?
Is this normal train of thought? I don't think so.
Finally (after 10 minutes or so) I take courage in the fact that there is the big sign out front and approach the house. It was just a shop that sold bonsai trees.
It took me awhile to pick one, but even when it was purchased and I was walking out the shop, I couldn't help looking over my shoulder to ensure that there was no frying pan about to hit me over the head.
I think three examples is enough for today. But in case any of you need a good laugh, just mention it and I am sure that I can supply more good stories.
PS- Sis. Morgan, is that you in that picture with Megan over to the side in NY? David and I have been debating this fact ever since it has been up. And, are you wearing glass? I think that you are.