I’m kicking off a new series on this little blog called “Five Things on Friday”. I’m a huge fan of lists. As in sometimes I make lists about the lists I need to make. It’s bad. They’re my comfort zone, people! I mean, come on. What is better than crossing an item off your To Do list? Maybe a glass of wine. And nachos. And pretty much anything chocolate… OKAY FINE. Loads of things are better than lists, but I still love them. So why not incorporate that love for all things lists on here? After all, I am reallllly good at them. What is that? Do you hear a horn? Yes, that would be me tooting my own.
Without further ado, today’s list is…
Everyone has things that make them nervous. In my case, sometimes they’re pretty quirky things. Now, I’m not proud of this list. But hey! I’m human. And as you will see, I have pretty killer avoidance methods.
- The dentist/doctor/really anything medical. I’m not sure where this came from or why it still exists, but it’s bad. Like, really bad. In sixth grade, I had walking pneumonia. When I first went in to Urgent Care with my symptoms, they informed me they wanted to run some tests and they would need to draw blood. The nurse left the room to go get the necessary blood-sucking supplies. So did my mother, to call my dad with an update. Big-o mistake-o, mommy dearest. With zero supervision, I ran out of that room at the speed of light and hid. Where I hid, I don’t remember. All I know is that no one poked me with a needle that day and they were able to find the pneumonia through an X-ray. So obviously my hiding tactics were outstandingly successful.
- Flying. I feel like this one is pretty common, but it had to make the list. It doesn’t necessarily prevent me from going places but it definitely makes me think twice. How people fall asleep on planes, I will never know. With every bump, I think we’re going down. The safety video they play before take-off, with the water landing procedure and oxygen mask diagrams, only feeds my sick imagination. However, I will say that my recent discovery of meditational coloring books (or adult coloring books, as I like to call them) made a world of difference in my last flight a few weeks ago. Everyone around me thought I was a nut job, but that’s beside the point.
- Getting stuck on the L (the red line in particular). Let me set the stage, for all you non-city folk. Chicago’s L has several lines, like most public transportation systems. We have brown line, the blue line, the red line, and a few other selections of the rainbow. The red line, however, is Chicago’s most hated. At least it’s my most hated. The majority of your ride is underground, there’s no cell service for Spotify streaming/Instagram checking/mom texting. Whenever I ride the red line, I have this fear that the train will just break down and I will be stuck there, under all that earth. I won’t be able to call anyone, eventually I’ll run out of air, people will go crazy and start to turn on each other, and….NONE OF THIS WILL EVER ACTUALLY HAPPEN. I know that. But I still take the above ground brown line whenever I can, even if it takes me an extra 20 minutes.
- Small rodents. Living in Chicago, aka “Rat Kingdom”, I am faced with the little buggers far more often than I would like. It’s not even just rats that I loathe. It’s mice, rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, and on and on. A few years ago, my best friend desperately wanted a pet rabbit (obviously, she didn’t recall her stint as rabbit owner a few years prior, which she absolutely hated. I digress…) She asked me to go to the pet store with her to pick one up, and I stupidly said yes. As soon as we walked in, I was bombarded with the sight of little hairy things crawling around in cages. I literally started dry heaving and hyperventilating before running out of Petco. The mental image of this all going down still makes me laugh.
- Food gone bad. I am SUCH a weirdo when it comes to food spoiling. Leftovers from 2 days ago? Nope. Opened almond milk older than a week? Bye. I know it’s so wasteful and impractical, but if I eat the food-in-question, I’ll be so anxious about getting sick from it that it’s not even worth it in the first place.
Let me tell ya, it’s a weird place in side my head. But hey, my therapist says I’m normal.
’til next time…