Sometimes I think that God felt guilty for making me so damn good looking, so he had to compensate for it by making me a bit of a mental case.
I could talk about the DOZENS of things that make me one VERY odd duck, but I was reading another blog last week that talked about this one particular thing that I do, and I found it very interesting, because I really thought that I was the only looney who thought like this.
Ya see, I have this condition where I tend to associate human characteristics and feelings to non-human objects.
And I’m not talking about the typical ways that people do this, like talking to their car, or calling their boat “Their Gal”…..
… I’m talking about doing things that even weird MYSELF out.
The first time I remember doing anything like this was when I was a kid, and I cried for an afternoon when my parents decided to pull up our ancient red shag carpeting with some nice modern carpeting. As the workers rolled up the old carpet, I cried and hugged it and apologized to it for being so carelessly discarded. I felt like it served us so well by letting us walk all over it for many years, and now I was letting it down.
That’s not normal, right?
And although my days of crying over old furniture are thankfully over, I still get very uncomfortable whenever I buy something new to replace something old that has faithfully served me for a long time.
Last month I bought a new hammer, and I have to admit that I stared at my old, shitty hammer for a few minutes thinking of all the times when it had done right by me and did its job.
That time 10 years ago when I had to fix my fence……. Old Mr. Hammer was there for me, pounding nails like a champ….
Then there was that time when I had to assemble my new computer desk, and even though the instructions said that you didn’t need any tools, I couldn’t make the sides fit together just right. Who was there for me? That’s right… Mr. Hammer, giving the wood a few gentle taps to get them to line up for me….
And of course Mr. Hammer was there for me that time when I got high on horse tranquilizer and went on that homeless killing spree…..
Look, that’s neither here nor there. The point I’m trying to make is that my messed up brain always puts human characteristics on inanimate objects, and even though I know that it’s UBER weird, I can’t seem to help myself.
Anyone out there suffer from this affliction?
This post would be longer, but I’m feeling bad for Mr. Keyboard. He’s been cranky all day and I want to let him take a nap.