This may shock you, but I am not an ordinary person. I’m quite strange. One thing that I realised recently is that I spend quite a bit of time and energy being afraid of really odd things. This is ridiculous. How should I cope? Lots of expensive therapy? Enforced regime of positive thinking? A commitment to healthy living and exercise? Facing my fears? Sod that. I’m just going to blog about it. Here goes:
STUFF I’M AFRAID OF
1. Sprouting potatoes
I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but there is not much in this world more terrifying than a sprouting potato. They are hideous and my skin is crawling just thinking about them. Ugh. My father chased me around the kitchen table with one once. He probably doesn’t remember this, but I do. How it reached out for me with its spindly tubers, multiple eyes furrowed together in a gruesome potato grimace of terror. *shudder*.
You might be thinking, “this is reasonable. Tornadoes can actually kill people.” Yeah, well, I’m not Dorothy and I’ve never so much as visited a place where I’m ever actually likely to see a tornado of any magnitude. But they still creep into my thoughts and dreams. Especially my dreams. To be fair, I’m not the kind of person who ever has pleasant dreams. Not that I have nightmares every time I snooze, but I’ve never had a dream where something really good and wonderful happened. Usually, the best I can hope for is something weird. But, often enough for me to take mental note, a tornado appears just to threaten my dreamland wellbeing, and I’m forced to run, which I can’t do because my knees have just turned to a jelly-like substance. So a shuffley-drag across the floor is usually all I can manage. Maybe it’s my sub-conscious telling me, “work on your upper body strength you lazy cow.” Maybe.
3. Getting a pimple on my nose
This has been a huge fear of mine since I was a teenager. Pimples on cheeks, foreheads, chins, whatever, it happens. Sure, they’re uncomfortable, painful, annoying, and distracting from any kind of natural beauty vibe you’re trying to generate, but they’re expected and you can get through it. Noses are different. Noses stick out. Noses won’t even try to hide your terrible pus-y shame. They’ll illuminate it to everyone who walks by.
I remember a boy at school had a nose pimple. Big, painful and right on the end. It was all anyone could think about for days. It was embarrassing just to look at him. In consequence of this, though I am generally bad a skin care routines, my nose routine is top notch. I have successfully managed to banish any pimples, spots, blackheads or anything else that has even considered setting up camp on my nasal protuberance. But the battle is ongoing…
Ok, this is a common one. Yes I am afraid of spiders in the usual sense. They’re big, ugly, terrifying and constantly trying to kill me via heart attack by dropping down from the ceiling right in front of me by surprise. But… I’m also paranoid. No one needs eight freaking eyes. No one. Why do they have them? Surely, this is surveillance. They are recording everything. Conversations. Dalliances. Private alone time. Peeing. I’m 87.3% sure that spiders have a montage of footage of me peeing stored in their collective hard drive and they’re just waiting for an opportunity to use it against me. The reason they haven’t come out about it yet is because they have small brains and don’t understand the conventions of human interaction and can’t quite figure out the way to use their knowledge against us. But in the meantime, they’re still recording.
5. Baked beans
Seriously. Who eats these. Why? Have you seen road kill? No really, have you seen road kill? Next time you’re wandering down the road and catch a glimpse of a hedgehog who’s seen more voluptuous days, slow down and take a look. What are those bursting out of his chest cavity? Baked beans. Hedgehogs are filled with baked beans. Ugh. Food doesn’t need to look like the innards of small woodland creatures. Unless it actually is the innards of small woodland creatures. In which I case I won’t eat those either. Even the look of baked beans revolts me. I don’t like being in the same rooms as them. I don’t like seeing photographs of them. If I had to do the ‘bath of beans’ challenge I’d sob and shriek in terror throughout the whole thing while trying to hold back a shuddering vomit. Ugh. Hideous hideous hideous.
There. I don’t know if I feel better now or more terrified…