Whenever I do something a little off, which happens quite frequently, I often tell anyone around me that it’s just one of my “things.” They’re just weird things I do and prefer and say.
For example, today I was in the airport bathroom washing my hands. When I had to dry them off, I accidentally stuck them under the dryer because I was distracted. I hate hand dryers. They never do the job and I would rather use paper towels or even sandpaper than a moldy dryer.
I also hate escalators. I don’t know if it’s a fear thing or if I fell off one as a child, but I freak out on an escalator. I hate the moving steps. I hate the idea that it could get stuck. I hate the slow churn of the steps moving up or down. For some reason, it just makes me so anxious.
Lastly, I am straight up neurotic about the noise of plastic-y things like chip bags. The sound of someone squishing up a chip bag or similar makes me shiver all over. I actually got the chills typing that. I have NO idea where it came from or when it started, but I’ve been doing it since as long as I can remember. It makes me so annoyed when people crumple them instead of simply opening them or throwing them out.
After writing this, I feel a little better about how weird I am. These are just some of my “things”, and they’ll probably never not be things.