I’m the guy who has to click his car’s remote control twice when he locks the doors. The first time I hear that swish but it isn’t enough. I need to hear that noise that sounds like a car breaking wind as if it has trapped gas.
I’m also the guy who before retiring to the bedroom for the night has to check in the kitchen at least four times within five minutes to see if the stove and range knobs are all turned to the off position, the sink faucet is closed tightly, there are no dishes or silverware in the sink tub and that any dishes or silverware sitting on the sink counter have been wiped dry by a towel.
I check that the kitchen blinds are totally closed so no one can peek in to the fourth floor from at least one hundred feet away. The same goes with the drapes in the combination second bedroom and computer room. I also make sure that the front door is locked at both knobs and that the alarm is on. My cell phone must be turned off and connected for recharging if required.
I also must look in the mirror at least three times before retiring, standing sideways and ask myself if I’ve lost a little weight since the prior evening.
In other words- I’m nuts. I have a need to make sure everything is in order. But I don’t trust myself nor the forces of evil that wish to harm me or ruin my karma, depending on the given night.
Truthfully, it’s not just a nighttime thing. I check email at least twenty times a day because I just have to know if and when someone wants to tell me something as quickly as possible. I also look at my web browser several points during morning and afternoon to check the Dow Jones stock average. Hey, it’s the lifeblood of the economy. And I only look at my mutual fund share value if the stock market has been up for a few days; otherwise, I don’t want to know.
I don’t like walking on the lines between each sidewalk section nor the cracks within them. I check to make sure my cellphone is still sitting on the belt clip at my waist just as I did twenty minutes earlier- a person can never be too careful, right?
Like the schizophrenic said, “I gotta be me- and me.”