Anyone Else?

Please tell me I'm not the only one who suffers from these erratic behaviors and afflictions: 

That Feeling of Stepping on Something Barefoot 

I’m pretty much always in socks or slippers. Even when my floors are freshly swept, mopped and vacuumed, the second I step barefoot onto the wooden or tiled floor, it’s crumb central. I don’t know where these stray crumbs come from, that somehow elude the broom and vacuum, but they come out from the woodwork when I’m barefoot and it drives. me. bananas. 

Irrational Fear

As a 30-year-old, mostly self sufficient woman, I like to think of myself as an “adult.” Except when I’m home alone and convinced someone is right outside about to break in, or already inside and plotting my death. This irrational fear gets even worse this time of year, and Brent’s going on two business trips in the middle and end of October. I’m terrified. 

Eternal Whiteheads 

These aren’t your garden variety zits; these motherfuckers show up ripe and disgusting, ready to pop. It finally pops on its own while washing your face and you see the blood and think, phew, now it will start going away. Except it’s a huge fucking fake out b/c the next day you see that giant white head appear again and you’re like WTF. I know this is gross and graphic but I’m currently in round 2 w/ one on my upper lip (and I dare you to tell me there’s a grosser spot for a zit) that looks like it’s camping out for the rest of my life. Kill me now. 

How I Feel When I Change My Sheets 

Changing my sheets automatically makes me a productive member of society. Back in college, my roommate and I would change our bedding maybe four times a semester, but always on a hungover Sunday so we could admire how functional we were (and if I’m going to be hungover in bed all day, I would like to do it in clean sheets). It was something to brag about, since everyone else changed their sheets like once a year. To this day, I always get an inflated sense of accomplishment after I change our sheets. I usually use it as an excuse to sit around eating junk food for the rest of the day. 

Food Fixation 

I don’t think about food in the way that normal people start to think about dinner when that 3 o’clock slump sets in, or start planning what to order when they’re looking at the menu. I’m constantly thinking about food. When I’m not eating, when I’m eating, right after I’ve ate, I’m thinking about what my next bite, snack, meal will be. I’m planning my dinner when I’m eating my lunch, and reading all the menus online to determine which restaurant has the most food for the best deal. It’s a very unhealthy obsession that I spend way too much time on.