Mental

First there was the door. There still is the door, actually. I cannot stand the reception door being closed with me on the inside. It’s completely irrational, since (a) it’s not locked, (b) even if it were locked, I have the key, (c) even if I don’t have the key, I’m not actually stuck since I can just get over the counter and (d) it’s a fucking door, why do I care? But it appears that I do. I think it developed over time, because at first although I didn’t like it closed I didn’t care so much. Recently, though, when it was closed I couldn’t concentrate on anything else until it was open again. Whatever I was doing was done with barely any attention to it, because I kept thinking about when I can finally reach for the door and open it. I don’t know if it’s OCD or anxiety, but I don’t like it.

Then there was tonight, where I think a shrink would have a field day with my behavior. First, there was the inability to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds. Autism-r-us. Then there was the nervous tearing of objects. This is something I occasionally do out of boredom. I’ve never done so much of it out of nervousness and having to keep my hands occupied – napkins, leaves, flowers… all found their death by being torn into tiny pieces while I was avoiding eye contact and secretly diagnosing myself with several mental disorders. And stupidity, of course. We can’t forget the stupidity.

There were a lot of firecrackers going off tonight, which made it worse, because all this banging and cracking sounds like gunshot and with the right echo and whistling when it goes up in the air – like rockets. So many of them, so close and loud and going off all fucking evening really grated my nerves. Which is funny, because I don’t think the actual rockets that were falling a few years back grated my nerves quite as much as tonight’s firecrackers.

On a brighter note, I got to throw limes/mandarines at a concrete wall (and fail, because I throw like a girl), so that was fun.

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