Everyone has fears - and some of those fears are completely “normal” or typical. Things like something horrible happening to those you love, being afraid of heights, or being taken hostage on a cargo ship by Somalian pirates (that was a TRUE story, you guys). I, on the other hand, have these fears, but I am also afraid of pretty much everything (except for ghosts…I ain’t afraid of no ghosts). Now just because my fears are “irrational” or “Carmenesque” (as my husband calls them) it doesn’t mean that these aren’t things that I think about on a daily basis. It was very hard for me to narrow this down to only 20, but these are the big ones. And yes my brain does hurt. Thank you for asking.
Fire. I double check that my oven is off every time I leave the house (even if I haven’t used it in weeks). I will never have a real Christmas tree (have you seen that YouTube video where the tree is engulfed in flames in like 2 seconds)? I hate when people have fires in their backyards (I am afraid that people won’t put the fire out properly and it will come back as a blazing inferno). I only use fake candles (obviously). Sometimes I wonder how I was ever a smoker.
Horror Movies. And by horror movies I mean any movie/tv show/commercial that seems the least bit like someone might be hurt. Perhaps watching “Nightmare on Elm Street” when I was 6 wasn’t such a good idea, mom. Yes, it turns out that my older brother was not a very good babysitter and would often make me watch horror movies alone in our creepy basement where he also happened to have a life size poster of Freddy Krueger above his bed. “1, 2 Freddy’s comin’ for you” still haunts me and perhaps could explain the fire phobia. (You know because Freddy was so badly burned that he had to come back and kill people in their dreams. He had a hand made of KNIVES…KNIVES!!!)
Talking to real people on the phone. I have mentioned this before, but this is seriously a thing. I am not shy and have no trouble speaking to a group of people in front of me, but having to say things to people on the phone and I forget what my own name is. I get so flustered that it takes me like 10 minutes to even get to the point of why I called. I have to rehearse the conversation and if people don’t answer me according to the script I have written out where I imagine what their responses should be, well I might as well just move to another country and get a new identity. I hate ordering pizza because I am so afraid that they will screw up my order and I’ll end up with something I can’t eat. Thank goodness for cell phones. Now I can pretty much just email or text people so it’s like I never have to talk to anyone ever again. What a time to be alive.
Not cleaning the dryer vent properly. Again this relates to #1. Sometimes I envision being on my deathbed and the only thing I want to tell my husband is to make sure he properly cleans out the dryer vent so he doesn’t burn the house down. Not “I love you” or “take care of our boys”, but the dryer vent. Try living with that.
Dogs. Specifically, wild dogs. When my husband was living up north there were so many wild dogs roaming the streets that I refused to live there. Literally that was the ONLY reason.
Being invited over for dinner and not liking what they are serving. This happened to me once and it was seriously like the “mutton episode” from Seinfeld. I literally put food into napkins and dumped it into the toilet afterwards (for fear of being chased by wild dogs…see how everything fits together)?? The worst part was it was a “Pity Dinner”. Oh you’ve never been to a Pity Dinner? Well people often feel sorry for me because I cry a lot. So when I cried in the middle of a crowded staff room when I was teaching in England, this poor guy felt so bad for me he invited me over to his house for dinner with him and his wife. I tried to tell him it was unnecessary. I had real live friends, just not at that torture chamber they called a school, but I mean I was sobbing. The night of the dinner I was worried about 2 things-taking public transit alone at night where I could be robbed and then dismembered, and that they would serve something gross like mushrooms or curry. What did they serve? Mushroomed curry over rice. I tried picking out rice that had not been touched by the vile curry sauce, but it was smothered. No grain of rice was left untouched. I was hoping the wine they served was poisoned so I could just end it there. If you ever invite me over for dinner treat me like a 5-year-old and just order me a cheese pizza (just don’t make me order it). I beg you.
The reality that Peter Mansbridge will retire one day. What?? I have a bit of a crush.
Having those drug dogs in airports sniff out my luggage and have a scene out of Brokedown Palace. I would not fair well in a Thai prison.
Accidently eating/preparing uncooked food and giving everyone food poisoning. That is why I cook the SHIT out of everything and prefer my food well done/burnt. What my chicken is dry? Would you prefer getting salmonella? You want pink in your steak? And get blood all over my plates? That’s gross. You don’t like pork chops cooked so well done that they shrink to the size of a toonie? No, sorry. There will be no raw meat on my watch.
Uncontrolled intersections. I know, right?
How to work a shower in someone else’s house.
Plugging a toilet in someone else’s house. Hot tip: If I ever leave your house earlier than normal this may have happened. I won’t tell you; I will just leave. I am apologizing to you about this right now.
Getting flesh eating disease. Well pretty much getting any type of disease that I saw on Oprah.
Getting accidently drunk at a wedding and missing Julianne Hough do the Footloose dance. Oh wait…. THAT HAPPENED.
Being the first or last person to arrive. I hate being early (makes me feel like a loser that has no life and has been waiting ALL day for the event) or late (makes me feel irresponsible, which I AM NOT). If everyone could just sync up their phones/watches and arrive ON TIME, that’d be great.
Being sucked into a cult like Kelly Taylor on Beverley Hills 90210. Seems plausible.
Being thrown overboard on a cruise ship. NOTE: I have never been on a cruise ship.
Zoos. They smell weird and the animals scare me.
Winter driving, driving at night, in the wind, dust, rain, when clouds look strange, driving someone else’s car, parking, and getting in an accident and having someone yell at me on the side of the road (naturally I would be at fault).
Finally, probably my biggest irrational fear…having to go to the bathroom and not finding a bathroom. Along with childbirth and tampons, guys just don’t get this. Peeing, sharting, and/or pooping your pants changes you in a way you can’t really recover from. Am I being dramatic? I don’t know, have you ever roamed around Barcelona at 3 A.M and NO ONE would let you use their bathroom? Hmmm until that happens to you and you are left without options, talk to me then and let me know if I am too dramatic. I won’t finish this story as I’m afraid you’ll all look at me differently. Oh forget it, you know I’ll tell you. I pooped my pants in Barcelona.
Previously published at funnygirlproblems.com
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