Hangups

People always confide really universal hangups as if they were unique and quirky. “Sometimes,” they will whisper bashfully, “I just feel so awkward at parties, as if I don’t have anything interesting to say!” or “The sound of the dentist’s drill just gives me goosebumps!” You know…things every human experiences. I don’t think it counts as a hangup to say, “I am fearful of pain, sorrow, and embarrassment in front of my peers,” or other very natural human reactions.

Let’s get into some real hangups, shall we? The good stuff, by which I mean, the weird stuff, the stuff we do that does not really make sense. I will go first, as is only befitting since it’s my newsletter.

1. I hate taking two showers in one day. If I have to do something that necessitates a shower—a gym class or swimming or something very sweaty or dirty—very late in the day, I will organize the whole day around not taking my usual morning shower and not appearing in public until this bizarre later-day shower has occurred. I have interrogated this hangup and I think it’s a sensory issue not about the shower itself—I like showers, and have no issue with being wet—but around dampness. I hate the after-shower period wherein I have to run around damp and find clothes and do my hair and re-assemble into my normal self and no matter how well I towel off, I’m still a bit tacky to the touch for about half an hour. I hate being damp! I also don’t like being touched by other damp people. This is fine with other damp adults—no one hugs at the beach—but damp children occasionally drape themselves across a lap, and one just has to grin and bear it. Parents must have to really up their game on odd sensory experiences.

2. I have ranked everything in my home. To an extent, I think this is a normal thing everyone does that has gotten slightly out of control with me. Everyone has a favourite mug, or even a preferred cereal bowl. I have a favourite everything, and a second favourite, and a third favourite, down to my most hated facecloth and the fork I only tolerate if no other forks are available. When guests come and I’m setting the table, I beneficently set their places with my favourite utensils, as if there is any way they could possibly tell—sometimes I even do this for Mark too, if I’m feel exceptionally kindly towards him. Once we had to throw out a glass, it fell so low in the rankings I could no longer stand the sight of it, even if I didn’t personally have to drink from it. The answer is clearly that I should throw out all the low-ranked items, buy more high-ranked stuff, and make all my cutlery, glasses, underwear, towels, etc. uniform, so as not to have this ranking drama, but that seems so wasteful. Also, it is kind of exciting the day after laundry day when I get to wear the top-ranked socks again. It wouldn’t be special if they were all high-ranked, would it? (I feel like the question is going to be asked: Mark is aware of some of this, and he doesn’t really care except he was confused about my hatred for that glass but ultimately relieved when it was gone because it made me so angry.)

3. Before I close any appliance or draw that closes true, I check to make sure there is not a cat in it—the fridge, the stove, the dishwasher, the washer, the dryer. Sometimes even the microwave although ours is suspended from an upper cabinet and it is very easy to see that it doesn’t contain a cat. Before I get in the elevator leaving my condo I scan the hallway fully to make sure a cat hasn’t escaped. Sometimes I catch myself looking at the floor of the bus or the grocery store to see if there’s a cat nearby so I don’t step on it. I have perked up in alarm many times at what I thought was a cat in distress but it turned out to be a baby. The origins of this are fairly obvious.

4. This origins of this post are that I am alarmed about being alone at home for the weekend, as I will be this weekend. Is my hangup that I cannot be alone? This seems off-brand. As most people know, I lived alone for TEN YEARS and it was mainly fine although I suppose that is when some of the above weirdness emerged. However, I have now lived with Mark for 14 years, and as I always say, marriage makes you weak. The last two times I was alone for a few days, catastrophic events occured—last summer, Alice got super-sick and we spent most of Mark’s vacation week at the emergency vet, and the summer before, I got laid off from my job and I spent the time yelling and crying and eating cotton candy popcorn. What will happen during Mark’s summer trip 2025?? Mark says probably nothing but he doesn’t even seem to have a preferred slot in the shoe rack, so we can’t trust him.

So, that’s four—enough for now although I think we all know there’s more. So…what are your hangups?

Upcoming Linguist-in-Chief Anne-Michelle Tessier post will include the intersection of her two specialties—language acquisition and dogs. This is specifically about the use of buttons with recorded words as a form of communication—there’s a bunch of pet Instagrams that show animals doing this but crucially, not how it came about or not in enough detail for the likes of me. As a favour to me, this will also include some cat material. I am a big fan of Mary Robinette and her cat Elsie, who is cat communicator. So fun and interesting! Stay tuned!!