What the hell is wrong with me?

So, I have this great new job that allows me to be creative all day–this is a good thing. The bad thing is that I apparently have lost all of my ability to function as a normal human being. I keep seeing Mr. m looking at me in horrified disbelief at the stuff I’m saying, and I know he’s right. Here are some examples:

Sunday night we were talking about Tarzan. I told Mr. m that, not having seen the movies, I always assumed that Cheetah was a cheetah. I was a little pissed off when I found out he was a chimp. But, I continued diplomatically, I guess I couldn’t be too harsh in judging Tarzan, given that he was raised by wolves.

Last night I was entertaining Mr. m with tales of strange things I see when I’m riding the bus. I told him about seeing the front wheel of a bike chained to a bike rack, and I thought it looked kind of funny. “That’s too bad,” sez Mr. m. “Someone must’ve only put the chain through the front wheel and they wound up getting their bike stolen.” That’s when I realized that the picture in my head of the bike’s owner unhooking their bike from the front wheel and toting the rest of it home was, perhaps, a bit far-fetched.

Tonight, Mr. m pointed out to me that the kitchen where I work has a microwave. I’ve worked there three weeks and I hadn’t noticed it before. After that I declared a moratorium on any conversation with my husband before he hurts himself laughing at me.

I’m a little concerned that I’m either going to get hopelessly lost somewhere and never make it home again or that I’m going to develop a degenerative brain disease and no one will notice.

There’s nothing at all wrong with you. Your creativity comes from the same source as your unusual angle on how you interpret what you see (read some James Thurber some time). Don’t mess with it.

As long as your husband is laughing at what you say in good honest humour and not in a nasty way at you as you, I see no problem with the whole deal.

I’m apologize for laughing so hard I nearly ruptured something when reading this but it sounds like something I would say. It’s okay, you’re normal.

At least, as normal as me!

Wasn’t Cheetah a she? They always refer to Chita as a she in the Spanish versions. My whole class was pretty cross-eyed when we realized that her name wasn’t just some random pronunceable noises, she’s called guepardo. Who the heck names a monkey “big cat that runs fast”? I mean, really!

Not in a nasty way at all–he’s a good guy. I tease him all the time too, so I suppose it’s only fair that he should get his chance…

Give Tarzan a break. He was raised by wolves, you know.