Sometimes I fear I’m doomed to be like Daniel Pecan Cambridge, so I ask of you all to kill me if I ever get to that point in my life. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a little messed up in the head. Seriously. Here’s a list of my quirks; well, the ones I’m willing to announce:
- Evens. I hate numbers. Even number of ice cubes when I serve my drinks (or when I’m in anyone’s house and serve myself a drink). I stomach fast food drinks and those served by me by rationalizing that it’s insane to count my ice cubes at Wendy’s after it’s already been served and just plain rude if my host served me a drink and I removed an ice cube.
- With that being said, I also have to the same thing in an even number amount of times. Say my index finger just happens to touch something by accident. I am then forced to touch that same thing with each of my fingers at least once as 1X10=10 (and even number!).
- During commercial breaks and only during ones that I like to watch, if I’m doing something with my hands like holding a pen, I have to hold said object (stop thinking perverted already, I said pen!) with all ten my fingers touching it for the duration of the commercial. With that being said, the Bill Gates/Jerry Seinfeld commercials are becoming a compulsion of itself.
- When I’m at my worst, I tend to count my steps. This helps reduce my anxiety for some odd reason.
- At times, I have to sit on my hands. Not with them under my ass, or anything, but thighs. It’s a quick thing and most of the time, I don’t even know I’m doing it.
- Like with the counting my steps, when I’m at my worse, I avoid cracks on the ground, or lines dividing the cement.