Idiosyncrasies: My Big 3

Note: These are the three idiosyncrasies of which I’m painfully aware. That said, I’m sure a few of my exes could point out a thousand couple more. Here goes . . .

I’m sure everybody has a few weird eccentricities and quirks, and I’m certainly no exception. O.K., mine may be a little weirder than yours. But hey, I admit it! That has to count for something, right?

Right?

Anyway, here are my Big 3, but like I said I’m sure others will be brought to my attention after this is published:

• I can’t sit with my back to a crowd of people, or anybody for that matter. I literally get a chill when someone walks behind me. Restaurants? I must have a seat against the wall if at all possible. At school my kids are under strict orders not to come behind my desk, less they risk gettting punched in the ear hole. And do NOT sneak up behind me and grab me or poke me in the ribs. If you do bad things will happen. I have witnesses who will attest to this. I also hate tight shirt collars, which has led one of my friends to theorize that in a past life I was strangled to death from behind. My friends are dark, twisted people.
• I like odd numbers. No, I need odd numbers. Wait, that’s not right. I have to have odd numbers. Here are a few examples of me and my thing for odd numbers. When I pump gas I have to have the total end in odd numbers. Volume on the TV? Odd numbers. All of my passwords? Odd numbers. Cruise control mph setting in my car? Odd numbers. Car heater or air conditioner setting? Odd numbered temperature. Me? Odd.
• Necklace latches that don’t stay at the back of the neck where they belong. I’m constantly turning mine back around after it has sneakily worked its way to the front, and I have to fight the urge to reach over and turn the latch to the back on random people I meet throughout the day. Sometimes the urge wins, and you’d be surprised how offended strangers get when I reach over and do them a favor by fixing theirs. You’d think I was invading their space or something. Plus, I’m sure that quite often the ladies think I’m checking out their cleavage when it’s actually the necklace latch I’m looking at. I’ve also been known to reach over and pick lint off a random shoulder. I don’t really think anything about it until the person flinches like I’m going to slap them or something. Why are people so touchy?

Of course, I haven’t mentioned straightening papers on other people’s desks, making sure my bills are all in the same direction in my wallet, and eating my dinner in alphabetical order. OK, I was kidding on that last one. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Oh, and I cannot stand it when people don’t put the caps back on ink pens. What are they, barbarians?

So does everyone have these quirks? Is there a name for it? I’d ask my doctor buddy, but he’d no doubt describe it with two non-medical terms: Batshit crazy.

Now excuse me while I go arrange my medicine cabinet bottles according to height.

Originally published on October 3rd, 2012.