Three More Things That Scare Me

(New Post! This one is for Rae from "Listen to the Raen Fall..." She wouldn't stop bugging me till I posted something. Check out her blog. She's usually posting something awesome, and she has to be decent if I don't hate her, right? Right.)

As I’ve said before, a lot of things give me the willies. Scare me. Creep the everliving frak out of me. You know so far that spiders, homeless people, things under my bed, and the metro scares me. But that’s not all. There are a lot of other things that freak me out. Here’s a few more.

This one is less of a ‘Scary! Get it away!’ then a ‘WHAT THE HELL HAS JUST HAPPENED?!?!’ Let me explain. We got a cat recently. A twelve, thirteen week old brown tabby who may or may not be a Bengal that we named Dodger.

Dodger is a good kitty, except when she decides to attack me in the morning when all I want to do is play WoW. Or when she gets the brilliant idea that she will eat my hair.

It’s not Dodger that I’m talking about though. It’s her litterbox, and, namely: The air freshener on top of it. It’s one of those motion sensor ones. You walk by, it’s gives a ‘Ffft!’ of air and voila. Instead of smelling like crap, it smells like sea breeze.

Except I don’t like being caught off-guard by sea breeze.

Yeah. Imagine that happening every half hour.

Next thing that tends to get me panicky would be song lyrics.

WARNING: This may or may not be the stupidest, most irrational fear in the world. Yes, I am seeing a therapist. No need to ask. Now that you have been properly warned, let’s move on.

Singing songs that have, “And then I die…” or “Die for you….” Or anything where it’s first person singing about how they’d die, because then when I sing along, I’m singing those lines. Then I think some sick deity thinks I’m serious and will kill me. So I alter it quietly under my breath. Die becomes fly. Or rye. Or my.

A serious offender? American Pie. Instead of, “This’ll be the day that I die…” I sing under my breath, “This’ll be the die that I fly…” Because I’m irrational like that, and am paranoid. I don’t want this to happen:

Lastly, elevators.

They’re demon cages. You know how I said technology hates me? Well somebody had the brilliant idea to tell me if the cord snaps, the elevator will plummet and I’ll smash against the roof and break my neck. Painfully.

Despite being told this is impossible, it translates to EVERY bump on the elevator sends a rocket of fear through me. To the point where I will carry my mountain bike up three flights of stairs to get to my apartment…Three whole flights! That’s a lot of stairs, okay?

And if that elevator makes sound, it scares me as well. I freak out. Enter “OMG WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIEEE” mode.

Or, I think about getting trapped. So I starve to death, or suffocate, or die of dehydration, because I was trapped between floors and the elevator people decided to screw me over and the firemen were lazy. Or something like that. Maybe I forgot to push the panic button.

Alright. That's it for now.

-Azu, over and out.