And she said "What happened to you as a child?"

I’ll be the first to admit that I have weird quirks and even weirder phobias. Seriously, who doesn’t?



But hearing other people say I’m weird for those phobias is, well, weird. Hey, I know they're weird! But others should think they’re endearing! Right?!

Here are a few of my wacky phobias:

1. I don’t order pizza over the phone. Well, it’s not so much that I don’t or can’t, but I WON’T. The pizza place people scare the crap out of me.

Call me strange (and I know you are), but it’s like my mind freezes up as soon as the (insert your fav pizza joint here) answers and says “will this be for carry out or delivery?” Wait? What?! I wasn’t even thinking about that! I was trying to remember what I was going to order! Oh no, I’ve gone mute…I can’t handle this…Now what do I say?! So, I end up hanging up. My mind just freaks out. I lose all function of my brain. It’s bad. Just plain embarrassing. I used to feel bad about this phobia until I read that Anne Hathaway (the Princess Diaries star herself) has this same phobia. I’m sure we’re both Domino’s online order’s number 1 clients.


2. I can’t walk barefoot on small tiles. It creeps me out. It’s mainly those small tiles in bathrooms. Like this:

I see them and I think “wow, there’s a lot of grout around all those little tiles. And who knows how much dirt and grime is in there. I bet no one has scrubbed this floor since 1987!” Let me be clear: I am, in absolutely no way, a germ-a-phobe. But those little ceramic squares of gross just freak me out! PANIC! The only place I CAN handle small tiles? The shower at my parent’s house. Because, it’s my parents. (but it’s still sometimes hard to overcome the urge to wear my flip-flops in shower.)



3. I can’t do my laundry if the house is a mess. I just can’t. I blame this on the fact that my house, growing up, was ALWAYS clean (mom, stop rolling your eyes. It was always clean.)

See, growing up, I was on laundry duty. I did laundry like it was my job. I hated that job. Which is probably why I hate doing it now. But I distinctly remember this: I’d go and get the laundry out of the dryer and throw it on mom’s (perfectly made) bed to fold.  Ever since then, I cannot fathom throwing clean clothes on an unmade bed. And I ONLY make my bed when I clean my house (sorry mom). So, unmade bed = not clean house = can’t do laundry. Are you following the math? Yet again, another weird quirk.


There you have it.  Some of my more random phobias.  But I bet I'm not alone in this.

You have weird phobias, too.  (that wasn't a question, but a statement.)