I’m a fairly normal person. I know, I know, everyone thinks that, but for me it’s true. Honest! I put my pants on one leg at a time and I brush my teeth regularly just like everyone else. I roll with most punches and I can control myself in a crisis. Unless it involves wings or unmade beds.
I am petrified of any animal with wings. I will cross the street if birds are congregating on the sidewalk. I refuse to go anywhere near a butterfly house or an aviary. I avoid restaurants with outdoor seating because I just can’t eat while birds are moving around under the tables. I try so hard to control my reactions, but the fear is too strong. M has learned that in the presence of birds he may well loose all feeling in his hand or arm, whatever is easiest for me to grip.
My issues with unmade beds has nothing to do with birds, though a bird in the bedroom might cause me to sell the house. Ever since I can remember I haven’t been able to go to sleep in an unmade bed. Sometimes I even have to “fix” the bedding in the middle of the night. If the sheets aren’t tucked in properly and the sham isn’t straight I just can’t relax enough to fall asleep. M puts up with me, but I’m pretty sure that it’s just because he never has to make the bed. Oh yeah, I didn’t mention, the bed, it has to be made by me. I can trust someone to drive my only child home and to care for her all day, but I can’t trust anyone to make my bed for me.
Honest, aside from those two things, I’m a perfectly normal person with no eccentricities. Oh wait… except for that laundry thing I do, and the shower ritual, and the breakfast routine… and that small issue I have with repetitive noises… and the fact that I can’t go to a bookstore without buying a book… or the way I get all tense if someone tries to play with my hair… and… and… and I guess I’m not all that normal after all. Or maybe I’m the normal one and the people with no hangups are strange. Right, that has to be it! Phew, I’m glad that’s settled. Now I have to go make the bed and go to sleep.