I admit it. I’m afraid of more things than a normal person ought to be, earning me the nickname "Courage the Cowardly Jen" from my better half. A few of the things I spend too much time worrying about:
- Leaving the house without pants and not realizing it until I’m in public.
- Breaking my neck. If necks are so important, shouldn’t they be thicker?
- Birds. I don’t trust them.
- Germs. I'm an OCD hand washer in airports and arenas.
- Sketches of aliens. The ultimate in creepy.
- Heights. GAH!
- Any kind of wildlife.
- Spontaneity. I like plans, schedules, sucking the joy from life.
- Singing a song in my head and realizing I’m singing it out loud. Without pants.
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See, some of the things I can buy, like the neck thing and maybe birds.
But "wildlife" in general? "Alien drawings?" The neighbors might not mind the pantless, the men folk anyway.
I had a roommate Pete, who is now technically a doctor. Pete is scared of sharks. Of seeing sharks, being around sharks, and pictures of sharks. I gave him a shark book for his birthday one year and he had to have other people turn the page.
But everyone had pants.
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