Ok, for 5 minutes I thought I was normal.
yeh, check check check and check. Only I do it with clocks ticking as well 
And hum rather than sing
Argh, that reminds me of another.
I do that AND I turn off my alarm in my sleep. Which is both odd and annoying.
hmm, it suddenly occured to me that this thread is over 2 and a half years old… Now it seems to be a check list for odd habits, at least to me
This peculiarity of yours relates to an opposite peculiarity of mine that fits in with this thread. Namely, if anyone was to DARE getting into my bed wearing his street clothes (even minus shoes and socks) he would DIE, slowly and unpleasantly. Nothing gets worn in my bed by me or anyone else other than pajamas or “birthday suits” (I’m divorced and live by myself, but my boyfriend and I spend most weekends at my place or his).
While the only time my bed gets properly made is when I strip it down and change the sheets, I do straighten it every morning, i.e., pull the topsheet and covers back in place so it LOOKS more or less made and so that if I or anyone else were to sit down on it, we’d be ON the bed, not IN it. This is the only time I’ll sit down on the bed in street clothes or let anyone else.
I’m just really, really fussy to the point of being neurotic about my bed being “clean on the inside.” Maybe this is because I take my showers at night instead of in the morning. Perhaps my nightly showers are another one of those really odd things abut me? It’s FAR easier for me to stay up a half hour later to shower than to get up half an hour earlier to do it in the morning. I am NOT a morning person and the LAST thing I want to do is take a shower then. But in any event, I’m really insistently odd about this.
What’s especially bizarre about this bed peculiarity of mine is the fact that otherwise I’m not much of a housekeeper. In fact, other than regularly attending to matters of personal hygiene (shower, hairbrushing, toothbrushing, wearing clean attire), I qualify as an outright slob. I do only the barest minimum of housework.
For instance, the dishes get done regularly, but “time to do the dishes” comes only when they fill the sink to the point where I can’t rinse out the coffee pot to make more coffee. I take out the garbage, but only when all three of my indoor containments are full, and though I do the laundry every week, it’s only because if I wait longer, my laundry basket is too heavy for me to carry to the basement laundry room.
Virtually all of the other housework (washing kitchen floor, cleaning bathroom, vacuuming, dusting) goes straight to hell for months on end before I even notice it, then it finally grosses me out and I give in and do it – and I couldn’t give a horse’s posterior. And I have messy piles of stuff all over the apartment too. Think I’m bad? You should see my boyfriend’s house. By comparison, I’m Martha Stewart.
I’m very much like Maastricht when it comes to eating without the husband. Last week it was liverwurst, hebrew national (had to be that brand) hotdogs, and salmon cream cheese. I don’t crave these foods and don’t feel deprived not eating them. In fact, the mere thought of them is making me sick, but there’s some demented satisfaction I get while I’m eating weird food combinations without the husband around… 