The raspberries in the office fridge that are growing mold might be mine. I don’t throw them out because they might not be mine and I wouldn’t want to throw someone else’s food away. Even if it had mold on it. Because you never know if someone is experimenting with fermentation.
I think I’m getting more and more socially awkward as time goes one. Earlier this week I thanked a person as I held open the door for him? Was I thanking him for allowing me to hold open the door for him? Did he think I was making a snarky comment about what he should have been saying to me? Is that what I was doing? These are the questions I asked myself for thirty minutes after I got back to my desk.
After not getting my eyes checked out for three years, I can now definitively say that it is worse than going to the dentist. The series of tests they put you through are so uncomfortable, the horrible anticipation of knowing a puff of air is coming at your pupil soon, staring into bright machines to hit a button when you see a squiggly mark. Turns out I put eye technicians up there on the list of authority figures in my mind because suddenly I’m worried that I’m not passing the test and I think I missed that one squiggly, should I hit the button now to indicate anyway…or will they think I’m seeing things that aren’t there? Maybe I should tell her that I know I missed one, so she knows I know she knows? Or ask for a do-over because I know that wasn’t my best effort?
I guess what I can take from all of these confessions is that I have an anxiety disorder of some kind and/or should stop consuming caffeine.