I guess these aren't really all bad habits. There's mostly fears sprinkled in and quirks and pet peeves. Just a little of everything really. Guess it means I will need to do a things I love post afterward to even it out.
4. Seems pretty self explanatory but nighttime. I was going to say forests at nighttime but then I realized that I don't really like very many nighttime related things. I hate forests at nighttime. I hate empty houses at nighttime. I hate creepy alleyways at nighttime. Scuba diving in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night would be my worst nightmare. I would seriously not take a million dollars to do it. I would rather be poverty stricken my whole life than accept a million dollars to be in the ocean in the darkness. Maybe I meant the word "darkness"? Because actually I really love my house at nighttime when all the candles are lit and it's cozy and warm. But I do not like going outside when it's dark. So...I don't mind the nighttime when I am in the light! See how I did that.....deductive reasoning....BLAM! Ninja.
5. Speaking of ninjas, I don't really like to handle sharp objects. Like knives. I do it all the time but I don't feel totally comfortable with it. I just know that any second, it will slip and happen to land in my kidney or something. And GARBAGE DISPOSALS!!! Oh God, no way. I will not stick my hand down in that murky, razor protected portal of Hades. Dude, I saw that movie....Final Destination. I think my brain collapsed from the stress of that moment in the movie when that dude is digging around in the garbage disposal and there's a side view closeup of the switch and the music and GAAAAAHHHHHH!!! I can't handle it. Once, there was a little knife stuck in my garbage disposal.....you can imagine the trauma I have experienced. It's amazing I'm still functional.
6. And speaking of things that make me uncomfortable, I have an alarmingly obsessive fear of raw wood. The feel of it. I don't like touching it and it never comes anywhere near my mouth. Like toothpicks and popsic....I'm sorry, I need a moment....le sticks. I am cringing as I type this. The MENTION of popsicle sticks is enough to induce tremors. And no, I do not eat popsicles. Ever. Or use toothpicks. Or chopsticks. Or even suckers, because the paper stick is kind of the same as the wooden stick and now you see just how irrational I have become. It's quite sad really. Painted wood is ok, polished wood if ok, really smooth wood is ok.....raw wood is a big hell to the no...NO. There are times when the accidental touch of raw wood has incapacitated me. Scraping wood on my teeth would downright kill me, I think. I have never met anyone with the same affliction. Everyone else seems to be able to use wooden coffee stirrers to their little hearts content. Imagine the purgatory I go through each year when my school's (wonderful and amazing) PTA brings popsicles to a faculty meeting. 40 people sucking on wooden sticks. It's pretty devastating. I have no idea where this comes from, I have never experienced actual trauma related to wooden sticks...as far as I know anyway. But I don't remember it ever not being this way.
I'm feeling a bit peckish.....probably because I just spent half an hour thinking about wooden popsicle sticks. I just imagined an even worse worst nightmare. Being in the ocean in the middle of the night with a raft made of popsicle sticks.
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