Thursday, May 22, 2008

Idiosyncrasies, phobias, and just plain weirdness

It has come to my attention that I might have a few of these lurking in my psyche. I’ve already told ya’ll about the whole snake problem. It is pretty bad, my loathing of snakes. I’m not sure having actually overcome my fears enough to whack one has alleviated my fear and loathing of them – I’m considering something drastic to get over this. Like, um.. not leaving my house until Halloween when they go back to hibernate? No..no… I just planted all this wonderful lawn, I’ve gotta enjoy that, right? How about hypnotherapy? Hmmmmmmm… I’ll have to give that some thought.

But, in addition to snakes – I apparently have a whole menagerie of weird issues. Working at the bank has brought out more than a few of these issues.

Like my fear of crossing the street. I live in the country and our small town doesn’t have cross-walks or even stop lights for that matter. I am usually okay crossing streets in a town with stop lights and little blinking WALK – DON’T WALK signs. It is crossing in unmarked, unmanned areas that seem to cause me the most grief. The post office is directly across the street from the bank. Most days somebody usually walks to get the mail for the bank and if asked nicely enough, the mail for the others of us who also have PO Boxes. I tend to get a lot of mail and one day they wanted to send me, because they were all tired of toting all my junk. I was game, until I realized what a scary proposition that was….. crossing that crazy street with no cross-walk and people zooming by willy-nilly. I did it – but not without realizing why the previous 20 years I had always done my banking and then driven across the street to the post office! All the others decided I was just plain whacko, but hey, do you know what happened about a month ago? A car rolled across the street (from the other direction) and hit a parked car at the post office. If that wasn’t enough to prove my point about it not being safe, just this week a large truck was parked and rolled across the parking lot (from yet another direction) and this time took out the flag pole and a railing! I think I can safely say I am finally justified in this particular phobia, don’t you?

I have to admit another fear. This one is just plain weird. I don’t like the back supply room of the bank. It isn’t that it has creepy crawlies, or that I’m afraid it has snakes in it. It is just a large room, with tons of different things and I don’t know where a single thing I’m looking for is in its chaotic organization. Not that it is that messy, it isn’t. I just plain hate going in there and trying to figure out if that is really the roll of printer tape I need for my teller machine, or is it just adding machine tape, or is it the tape for the credit card printing machine? I just hate that feeling. Where are the $1000 straps, why aren’t they here with the $100, $500, & $2000 straps? Nope, they aren’t – because so many things are strapped in $1000’s they have their very own place on a different shelf from every other strap. Hey, Susie – can you get some rubber bands? After 5 minutes I had to admit defeat that I couldn’t find the rubber bands. I just hate that feeling. Hey, but wait it does make me feel marginally better that nobody could find the rubber bands since we were out. It basically is a room that I avoid at all costs. That’s just weird.

I have never considered myself a picky eater (ya only have to take a view of my behind to get that one!), but I have decided I AM getting pickier as I get older. First there is the Diet Pepsi thing. I love Diet Pepsi the best – in the plastic 20 oz. bottle or the can, no fountain junk for me – ick! On please, oh please do not put vanilla, cherry, lime or any other weird concoctions into my Diet Pepsi. I don’t want it maxed, I just want it plain. I will drink Diet Coke if it is the only other choice, but I like orange (but only Sunkist), root beer (but only A&W), or Squirt better. Absolutely no Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper or something else weird they try to make. I love corn, but I do not want it mixed into anything. I love to cook, but avoid most “Southwestern” recipes – because they all add corn. I like just corn, plain. I don’t like Cesar dressing. I like those little 180 energy drinks, but only the orange –not the blue. See – picky, picky. On the other end of the food spectrum there is my absolute addiction to canned peas. Yep, mushy canned peas. We probably eat peas 2-3 nights a week. Weird.

It’s okay – I’m good with you thinking I’m weird.

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Sigh... It's that time of year again.

Yep, it's true. It is snake season again. In case you don't know this about me, I LOATHE, DETEST, HATE, and any other description you can think of to say about how much I don't like snakes.

I have lots of snake stories, more than any normal person should have. I'll just hit the highlights for you: senior year of high school and the snake guy assembly. He decides the chick who looks like she is about to puck and pass out should HOLD THE HEAD of a 20-foot python. Luckily, some girl I didn't even know spoke up and said "I think she has a really weak stomach". Bless her heart, I ended up holding it somewhere in the middle, thank goodness!

Fast forward to 2004, one early May morning I was meandering down the hallway of the house I lived in at the time, and see a snake slithering the other way! I shrieked and went running the other direction. (KK loves to do an imitation of this to this day!) After much hysterics, crying, calling, and more crying - the snake was found about 5 hours later and removed. I went straight to the Humane Society that day and adopted Sunshine. I figured at least if I had a kitty it would alert me to anything amiss! My handiest friend from the orchard where I worked at the time came with a big ol' can of spray foam insulation and did the place up right! We figured it must have come up by the furnace since there was a hole in the floor there.

Then we have this past January, and let me say just for the record - snakes usually aren't out here around in January, I was minding my own business working away at my little teller window at the bank. I notice the two other tellers standing behind me and one of them says "Hey Susie, what's this?" I turn around and she is pointing down - so I look. Welllllllll... I then screamed, jumped up on my stool, which broke and continued to scramble up onto the counter all the time banging up my legs something good! They thought it would be funny to see how I'd react to a STICK, that looked like a snake. hhhhrrrmmmmppphhhhh Not so funny. (Okay, maybe a little funny, but more for them and not me!)

And then we arrive at today - yep... it happened today. My first snake of the season, well if you don't count this one of from the Smith's Adventures (which I didn't actually see in person, just got a view from Mrs. Smith's cell phone). So, I came home around 3 pm today to bring poor Mimzy home from his big boy trip to the vet - if you get my drift, and what do I find next to my steps. Yep, a snake. I have never actually whacked a snake myself - although I have memories of my mom doing it on this very property I live on. My mother, was quite a woman and I sometimes wonder how she was so strong and did things I can only imagine to be strong enough to endure. But, I digress - so after some hysterics (no crying!) and a couple of phone calls - I decided, hey - I'm a grown up woman. A mother - I've endured childbirth of two 9 lb. babies, I can deal with a snake, right? So - the only weapon I have readily available - my snow shovel. Now I realize, probably not the best option because the blade isn't very sharp (not like a regular shovel or a hoe) so I start a whackin' it with the snow shovel. Guess what it does - it tries to BITE the snow shovel. I kid you not. So, I keepa whackin' until it quits a movin', shakin' in my high heel sandals the whole time.

I love where I live. I love being a part of a small community - I love having my girls grow up here, where I did. I love having my past, present, and future all right here.

I DO NOT LIKE SNAKES.

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