I am aware this post is about to illustrate just how weird my mind is, but it's interesting to me. I am troubed by leaving things behind. Inanimate, meaningless things. I feel terrible when I give away a bag of belongings to Goodwill. Mainly because I don't know what kind of homes they are going to.
I feel terrible that my childhood security stuffed animal, Pooh Bear, has been sitting on a shelf high in my closet since we moved here two and a half years ago. On top of a hunting rifle. In the dark. I finally put another old Pooh Beah up there with him so that he has company.
The other day I was trying on clothes and I noticed a string hanging on my jeans, so I snapped it off and dropped it on the floor. And then wondered if it was going to be lonely there in that dressing room. Or if it would be scared when the vacuum sucked it up later.
Once, when I was in fifth grade, I had a hangnail in church and peeled it off and dropped it on the floor. I was verklempt for the rest of the day over that fingernail. When a pen runs out of ink, I hate to throw it away. I kept all of my baby teeth in a TicTac box in my room. When my beach chair finally collapsed with rust on the beach last summer, it made me sad to leave it beside the trash can at the public access. That chair and I had a lot of good times.
I think I have a problem. Other than this issue, I am a fairly normal person. Really, I am.
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5 comments:
Ok, I don't feel it to the same lengths, but I find myself wondering silly things like that. Like if there are a couple random pieces of cereal in the bottom of the bag, I feel bad throwing them away, like they aren't special enough to eat. I already knew I was weird, but at least I'm not the only one!
Maybe I should just call you Howard Hughes (The Aviator)? ;)
Yep, you are a freak.
That reminds me - next time you're home you REALLY need to clean out your closet! Then we can work on all your stuff in the attic!
I cried for 3 days when I had to trade in my last car. I had it longer and enjoyed it more than I did my ex-husband. And I can't bear to get rid of a huge stuffed bear my son gave me years ago. Glad to know I'm not alone.
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