On the first day of my Abnormal Psychology class, the instructor said, “When people take this course, they automatically assume that they have all the disorders in the book. So, if you think you have this or that dysfunction, don’t worry, it’s normal.”
Huh? Do you mean it’s “normal” to be certifiably textbook crazy? Well, the instructor was right, I was back then, and since I remember that first-day-of-class statement often, I am now too. Normally crazy. Crazily normal. Whatever.
I thought of it again today while making up a tub of macaroni salad. (Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. Just a second while I refill my bowl… Ah, there.) I may be busting at the seams and that tub just about licked clean by the end of the day, but I can’t help it. If there is macaroni salad, particularly the mac salad I make, in the refrigerator, I have to have some. I absolutely can’t control myself with this stuff, it’s so good.
OK, that’s not exactly a textbook disorder. When the macaroni salad is gone, it’s gone. No big deal. I may be a few pounds heavier as a result of pigging out on this wonderful stuff, but no harm done.
Then I got to thinking: What other ways am I quirky or weird? Might as well take an inventory and fess up. Time to do some internal spring cleaning. So, here goes:
- I leave my spoon in my coffee cup when I drink it, and the coffee ain’t no good if it doesn’t have honey in it.
- I’ve talked about this before, but if there’s a bee around, I’m not. I’m gone. See ya later, alligator.
- If there’s music playing, I have to listen to it. And, that’s all I can do is listen to it. I can drive the car while music is playing, but I can’t hold a conversation, can’t read, can’t write and can’t walk without boogying along with the beat.
- I know where everything is in my house. If I can’t find something, I will go nuts ripping everything apart until I find it. Sometimes, I’ll reorganize as I rip everything apart looking for something then can’t find anything. By that time, I’m so befuddled that I can’t remember what I was looking for in the first place.
- By the way, don’t you dare try to take any of that macaroni salad in the refrigerator or I’ll bite your hand. Have you had your tetanus shot?
- If there’s a horse around, I have to have my hands on it. I don’t remember to excuse myself from the conversation either; I just walk away and up to the horse. It’s your fault for leaving your horse in the pasture while I’m there to visit anyway.
- If there’s a baby around, I have to goo-goo and ga-ga. If there’s a dog or cat around, same thing. And, it’s pretty much the same when Mike is around too. Poor guy.
- If we go shopping, your best bet is avoid at all costs book stores, music stores and tack shops. Not only will I not talk to you, but you won’t be able to drag me out of there either.
- Just like everything in the house, I know where every single cent I have to my name is. I can’t hide money from myself. I wish I could since there have been several times over the years when I wished I hid some money away somewhere. Yep, the house gets ripped up again.
- When I come home, I am home. It takes quite a bit to get me to go anywhere once I’m home. I get a lot of hair-brained ideas of things to do, places to go and people to see and even get excited about it – until it gets closer to the time to get ready to go. Suddenly, I’ll feel not so good or tired or can’t think of what to wear or will I have the energy to make it that long, yada, yada, yada. So, I stay home and love every minute of it.
The good thing is that none of these things fit all the necessary criteria to be a full-blown disorder. Trust me, I hauled out the ol’ textbook and checked. Again. I guess I’m just quirky and weird. Now that my duck inventory is done, I feel relieved. Again. And, I didn’t even have to tear my house apart to do it. This time.
Besides, I almost, but not quite, forgot: There’s macaroni salad to be had!