Neurotic

Heh. I just looked up "neurotic" at thesaurus.com. The definition blurb is "mentally maladjusted."

I guess when you do a walk-through of the apartment, checking that the doors and all windows are locked, four times before you finally concede that yes, it is safe, and no, serial killers won't break in and/or zombies are not going to jimmy their way in and gnaw on your feet in the middle of the night...well. 

And yes, thoughts like that do actually go through my head. I didn't worry about zombies eating my feet until I watched "The Walking Dead," though. It's just...so wrong. On eighteen different levels. 

I'm going to go check the sliding glass door again. Just once more.

Everybody Needs an Angry Dome

I would like an Angry Dome for Christmas.

There's something very satisfying about being able to talk to yourself and knowing that nobody else can overhear you. I discovered it recently when given free range of a classroom. I overtook both white boards, mapping out the issues I was having regarding a story of mine (writing is my heroin), and ended up hosting my own private therapy session.

It was great. Character development kinks and plot holes gave way to massive amounts of venting before I'd even filled up the first white board. Passive-aggressive relatives, the nagging department head at work, the self-targeted frustration at my inability to finish anything...all of it came out in neat little bubbles on the white boards, messy little words from my mouth. After which I discovered that I take my father's jokingly-intentioned jabs too personally; my department head, while a nag, is also a flaming germophobe, so if she ever really gets to me I can just sneeze in her direction; and that the only way I'm going to kick my chronic procrastination is to tell myself "fuck 'em all" and just get it done.

Yeah. Angry Dome: The Art of Self Head-Shrinkage. Could put psychotherapists out of business.