As for me, my mind apparently does not understand sidewalks. Anytime I am idly walking I will cut across the grass or whatever surface and take the straightest path to my destination. This means I often get wet socks and strange looks. Can someone share something to make me feel better?
I sort my Skittles.
My volume has to be set at an even number, or a multiple of five.
I can’t stand the feeling of flour or the insides of toilet tanks, and I have to brace myself to enter a revolving door.
I could go on and on.
That’s not strange. They are different flavors, after all.
I sort M&Ms by color, even though they all taste the same anyway. If I have something in my pocket, I have to constantly check that it’s still there.
I love to re-engineer every thing in my house. I modify lotion pumps nozzles so they don’t clog. I create the perfect algorithm to keep coffee fresh, shifting it from the big can in the freezer to the small can in the fridge, and even then refill that can so the freshest coffee doesn’t cover the amount still there from last time. I will rewire every light to allow dimming, whether I intend to dim or not. …
I won’t leave my dogs home alone in the dark.
I leave lights on for them and TV or satellite radio. They seem to be partial to Comedy Central and XM Channel 47. I dunno why; I prefer Channel 43.
I prefer to drink milk out of a the little dixie cups. I dunno why, it just doesn’t taste as good from a big glass. I bring the gallon to the table with me and constantly refill my little cup.
I have to touch both sides of a door frame when I go through it. And I may have to retouch one side if I touch the other harder - sort of balancing forces or something. I don’t understand it. Happens with other stuff too . Thank Og the rule doesn’t apply to keyboards.
Sometimes I eat Sweet Tarts and I will sort and eat them by color, the worst flavor to the best. The new hideous green apple, regular green, yellow, orange, red then blue.
In winter I sometimes will take my pillow and blanket and lay on the floor next to the furnace register while the warm breeze blows on me. The sound of the motor is very soothing to me as well.
Years ago, I vowed not to ever subject myself to hearing Free Bird again, and it’s a promise to myself that I have strictly kept. If it is being played in my vicinity, I take strong measures (up to and including minor violence) to either leave or have it turned off.
This causes some people to think that I have some unpleasant memory associated with the song, but actually I just dislike it and it’s become a sort of game to see if I can go the rest of my life without ever hearing it again. I’m Free Bird free! Whooo!
Every time I leave the house I tell my cat that I love her and when I’ll be home. In my superstitious little mind, if I don’t say it then something bad will happen to me and I won’t come home.
I can’t stand newsprint. I can’t handle a newspaper, or unwrap things wrapped in newspaper. Plain newsprint is fine. I wash my hands a lot if I touch newsprint. It just feels icky.
It’s beginning to be the time of year where the parking lot is covered in crisp, colorful dead leaves. If I crush a leaf loudly with my left foot, I will feel unbalanced until I crush another similarly crunchy leaf with my right foot. I sometimes wonder if there are people looking down from the upper windows of my office building and wondering why I’m walking such an erratic path out to my car.
I. Count. Everything.
Tiles in the shower.
Tiles on the floor.
Steps to my truck in the morning.
Jingles of my dog Homer’s little collar.
How many times he is breathing.
How many seconds I have been taking a leak.
How many times I am scratching my head.
How many rings on the phone until whomever answers.
Numbers numbers numbers.
And I am not particuarly good at math either. But I am a reallyaccurate estimator, for example, there are probably about 200 jelly beans in that jar, or this is probably about 63 inches long, or that is probably about 18% of this, etc…
If I am at a restaurant and any item on the desert menu contains the words “chocolate” and “raspberry” I must order and eat that item. I think of it more as a quest than a habit.
Actually I’ve heard you Should do this with your pets, so when they hear the same phrase everytime you leave, they associate it with you actually coming back every time.
I have the opposite problem. When I’m setting my alarm, for example, I can’t set it on an even number or a multiple of five. So instead of 9:30 or whatever, it would be 9:23 or 9:33, something like that. I’ve tried to explain it to people but it’s hard when I can’t even explain it to myself.
I floss my toes at night.
What I mean is that, upon removing my socks, I run the sock over the webbing between each toe, big to little. This is to remove the link from between each toe before showering (can’t stand going to bed dirty).
It seems perfectly normal and logical to me, but my wife informs me that other people do not do this.
Savages.
My husband does that and his reasoning is that the even numbers and multiples of five are used more and “worn out”.
I won’t eat the outside edges of blueberry pancakes. I must eat from the middle outward, and usually stop about 1.5" from the edges. I can eat plain pancakes normally, but it’s pointless to eat from the outside in when eating the blueberry variety, because I’m just wasting prime blueberry real estate.