Thursday, February 2, 2012

My Greatest Fears

Everybody has fears. Some people handle their fears more gracefully than others. I'm not one of those people. I'm paranoid and think about them all the time. Not in a crippling way, but in a "eh, she's maybe kind of crazy" way. These aren't like, "I'm afraid of spiders" fears. Although, I am afraid of spiders. I don't deal well with them. I'm sure they don't like me...I've killed plenty. Or had David kill them. Most things, I can deal with pretty ungirly-like, but not spiders. I'm a total girl. The kind you want to punch, because it's "just a spider." You've seen spiders, right? I can scream with the best of them. One time, I was in a car with a friend and a teeny tiny semi-friendly looking spider crawled out of the air vent. In the blink of a millisecond, I was in the back seat. I have no idea how I got back there nor did I make a sound. I was just back there. I hyperventilate around spiders. ANYWAYS. Enough about spiders. These are life fears that plague me throughout my days.

I am genuinely concerned that we're hurting our house's feelings by trying to sell it. It sounds crazy, I know. I did the same thing with my car when we sold it and bought the Murano. I cried a little and hugged the hood. There, I said it. I'll be venting to David, "Gyah! I cannot wait to move! This house is just not conducive to living with two Tazmanian devils." And then I'll feel kind of bad because what if the house heard me? So, I'll follow up with, "It's a great house and I've loved living here! It's sheltered us and kept us warm and cool and I will greatly miss it." And then, I'll lay my hand on the wall and say, "Thank you, house."

I'm worried that our kids will be the kids that people dread are coming to an event. I deeply don't want them to be brats. We're working on it early and they're not brats (at least I hope not), but I'm always afraid they're kind of crazy when I'm not around or something. I will raise "yes, ma'am," "no, sir," "thank you," "please," and "your majesty" children. I don't tolerate pains in the rear. I pray at night, "Please let me be a good Mom and teach them well and how to be normal human beings." Right now, we laugh at them when they fart. Yes, yes, we do. It's hysterical, because they're completely oblivious to it. And I know soon will come a day when we have to be like, "Oh, you guys, we do not do that in public," and then laugh later behind closed doors. I want them to be respectful and well-mannered. I want them to be so afraid of breaking something that they walk through Homegoods or the Lenox outlet store with their hands in their pockets even as someone else I may know. Ahem, moving on.

I will change airplane seats before we board if I've been assigned a seat with the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, or 42. I refuse to sit there.

I'm afraid I will one day have to give a toast or speech at a wedding or some event. I do not do public speaking. Just ask my public speaking professor in college. "Hi, I'm Ruth...uhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm...barf."

I'm worried that I'll be in a wreck one day and they'll have to cut my pants off to examine an injury to my legs and I won't have shaved for like a month. And then I'll have to explain.

I fret every single day that our neighbors' kids are going to come by and ask me to buy something for their school. I have to say yes, otherwise I'm the grouchy, mean old lady neighbor. Now, if they're selling Girl Scout cookies.....

I think about when the girls are in middle/high school and I'm grounding them for something or another and they go to their room and passive aggressively "slam" the door, but they know they can't slam it too hard or else I'll ground them even more. And then they slump onto their beds and say mean things about me under their breath. I mean...that's just a random thought...not like I know any other obnoxious teenager that used to do that when her mom grounded her for mouthing off.

I worry way more often than I should that my runny nose is actually spinal fluid drainage and I have some obscure disease that only Dr. House can diagnose, but there is no Dr. House!!

I'm always afraid that there are teeny video cameras everywhere in hotel rooms and public restrooms. Which, I know sounds super pervy, but I saw an episode of CSI or some show like that and that happened!

Whenever I'm in a high-security place like a bank or even like a Best Buy, where there are valuables and security people walking around and cameras set up, I try to act super natural like, "Don't worry, folks, I'm one of the good guys. You don't have to mind me." And then I worry that I'm acting a little TOO naturally and they'll start suspecting something. And then I overcompensate my bad acting and start sweating and then they arrest me for being a freak. I would never pass a lie detector test even if I was telling the truth.

I take back what I said about this not being about being afraid of spiders. One of my greatest fears in this life is that I will vacuum up a spider and it will stay alive in the dust collector place and it will have been pregnant and hatch all those babies and the next time I get out the vacuum, an army of spider babies crawls out and spreads everywhere in my house.

I'm gonna go put the vacuum outside.


  1. I think we were separated at birth.

  2. unconnected hands:)

  3. Thank the good Lord, I am not alone in my craziness!!! :) And I have the same fear about raising a brat (and of spiders). But then I worry that I'm too strict, and he's going to grow up and hate me. But then I don't want to be too easy on him . . . Anyway, yes ma'am, no ma'am, please, and thank you are non-negotiables in our household.

  4. Maybe it will help to think of spiders as land octupi...or maybe not.

  5. I was reading this, chuckling to myself thinking, "that Ruth, she's such a hoot!" I'm crazy, it's no biggie. Then I got to the last part about spider babies in the vacuum and I nearly had a stroke!!

    I am deathly afraid of spider babies. Once I stepped on a wolf know, the kind that carry their baxillion babies on their back. Well, I just thought it was a normal, big spider. Except when I stomped it a MILLION spider babies exploded EVERYWHERE. And, no lie, I think I had a small heart attack. Ever since then I am terrified of spider babies.

    So, in conclusion, your vacuum fear just insured that I may never vacuum again.

  6. extra points for the numbers.
    and making me laugh about walking through a store with my hands in my pockets.


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