There's nowt so queer as folk so they say. Humans are a strange species, riddled with quirks and habits ranging from a little eccentric to bat-poop bonkers. As a member of the human race I have a few oddball moments of my own and I have no idea why or what causes me to behave so strangely. I'll share a few of them with you and maybe that will offer some small crumb of hope that you're not the only one out there who secretly suspects themselves of missing a marble or two.
The Spooky Stair Run.
The Spooky Stair Run can happen at any time of the day but is most common in the twilight hours of darkness. I'll be upstairs with nothing sinister or frightening on my mind, merrily going about my business like a normal person until I go to walk down the stairs. At the top of the stairs, I'm suddenly convinced there must be a ghost or something terrible (but invisible) behind me.
I'll take a few steps at a quick pace, the next few at a trot which will develop into a full thundering gallop down the stairs by which time I'm so convinced at the likelihood of the presence of the terrible invisible being that I'll take my chances and leap down the last few steps ninja-styley.
I do not know why I do this.
The Lights-Off Long Jump.
This bears some similarity to The Spooky Stair Run in that it relies on a totally unfounded and irrational conviction that something terrible (and invisible) now not only wants to chase you down the stairs but is now lying under your bed with the intention of grabbing you as you go to tuck yourself in. Quite why this being would want to fondle my ankles as I climb into bed is anyone's guess.
I'll go to turn the bedroom light off, ensure that I have a clear run to the bed and flick the light off. I'll then run blindly in the darkness until I estimate that I'm within leaping distance of the bed and pounce on it like a deranged feline on an unsuspecting rodent.
I do not know why I do this either.
The Honey-I'm-Home Huff.
I love my husband. He's funny and kind and pretty sexy too. I enjoy his company and miss him terribly when we're apart. Why then, does the sound of his key in the door turn me into either a sulky brat or a hateful fishwife full of rage?
The Honey-I'm-Home Huff isn't a daily occurrence I hasten to add. However, on occasions it rears its strange and totally unnecessary head. Its starts like day, I'll be happy throughout the afternoon and eagerly awaiting husband's return from work.
I'll hear his car pull up outside and my mood will inexplicably drop slightly.
I'll hear the front door open and I'll feel decidedly teasy. Then the poor man will open his unwitting mouth and say a friendly greeting to me and that's it, I'm really pissed off and I have no idea why.
I don't know why I do that!