hello to self

[For my nephew, with whom I share so many quirks.]

When I send myself an attachment via email, I write myself a note in that giant white space. I cannot just send it completely blank, hugely blank. But apparently I might be in the minority on that one. The few people I’ve admitted it to seem kindly amused.

The nature of my work often requires that I send documents to and fro my “home office” to my “real office” so that I can edit said documents nonstop. It cracks me up or at the very least makes me smile when I open the email to find me writing to me: finish this today ? have a good day ! remember your reason for doing this ! it’s a full moon !

Although I have to tell the truth that it might be related to what I call latent behaviors. While the spectrum of compulsive disorders in the universe is indeed grand and real and from which by the grace of god i do not suffer, I have a theory that all humans and quite possibly all animals have an innate wiring for compulsiveness (impulsiveness?) or mental malaise in general. Must be part of Darwinism. Thus given my familial history, it’s not surprising that I did not escape entirely untouched with strong tendencies toward oddities. (Add to that my belief in the spirit realm and the cosmos, and well, there’s a whole mix of glorious things in my thoughts, but I digress.)

For instance:

I have to write myself a note when e-mailing myself.

For as long as I can remember, choosing silverware (and by extension plates, glasses, mugs) has given me great pause. Growing up I had two particular forks I would have to use; luckily they didn’t match my mother’s actual set so no one wanted to use them anyhow. As an adult, I do not own a complete set of matching housewares and that is just fine by me, because I get to choose anew each day the one that suits that moment. I love beautiful dishes.

I need to tap my alarm clock, which is currently my cell phone, three times before going to bed.

If I put a hat on my bed (that’s a whole ‘nother blog about Italian omens) I have to hit my head with it four times then throw cursed hat to the floor. My son likes to taunt me by dangling hats over my bed.

I count/add numbers incessantly. So does my dad. License plates. Clocks. Rocks. Holes in the ceiling while waiting for doctors. It calms me.

I have been known to move my car or take a different route to find a “better” spot or a “safer” route. By better and safer I mean something inexplicable.

I believe if you cut your hair off you’re releasing/surrendering experiences that the hair might have “seen” and that this is healthy. I’ve always wanted to shave my head, just once.

On my way out of the house or office or anywhere, sometimes I have to touch things. Like water coolers or walls.

Animals in their natural environment are very intuitive, better to see two crows together than one alone, e.g.

I consider it completely normal to live in a world in which everything means something. But to remain balanced, some days I do try to remind myself that the naming of some things as important and others as not could be just a human construct.

At any rate, I bet people everywhere could create such a list of self-quirks, mine of which here is a mere sampling.

What’s yours?


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