Depending on where I’m going I get really paranoid/some kind of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder wondering if I have everything I need in my pockets.
If it’s a night out, I’ll put my money in my pocket, go downstairs and check that it’s still in my pockets. Then, as if the money was somehow going to disappear from my pocket, I check again a few more times before I leave the house. Mental.
It’s worse when I go to a football match/gig/holiday. Tickets/money/keys/passports are all checked numerous times before I leave the house, checked again in the car. Then checked numerous times throughout the journey. I don’t actually relax about it until I walk through the doors with the ticket. I’m a nightmare on the way to Glastonbury Festival; I’d be better off super glueing/gluing [sp?!] the ticket to my fod.
There is more likelihood of losing stuff with my constant checking than just forgetting. I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten anything I needed to take out with me (apart from my PIN number the other day, obviously).
Unless I’ve forgotten about it.
Other, not quite normal, things I do:
- Toilet roll in the bathroom must always be dispensed outwards (the paper rolls away furthest from the wall). If the toilet paper rolls out closet to the wall I’ll change it around, even if it’s not my house. I find it odd that people willingly let it roll out closet to the wall. It’s just not cricket.
- Talking of toilets…I know this will sound gay, but…I can’t go the toilet if someone is next to me (urinals) or possibly listening (the shower/taps running in the house make more of a racket than a stream of piss when I know my housemate is in his room next to the bathroom) – I’m sure this harps back to being 7/8 when I had to wee in a pot/bowl thing to find out why I had pains to my stomach (not sure they ever found anything)! I specifically remember being stood there in the hospital, trying to piss, for what seemed like hours. I still obviously haven’t gotten over the trauma!
- This extends to being in work toilets too…there is nothing worse than hearing another man drop his payload.
- Packets of crisp (or bags/packets of anything) must be opened the right way up. They never taste the same if you open a packet upside down. Fact.
- I hate the radio/tv volume being on an odd number. It annoys the hell out of me, even if I haven’t got the remote control I make sure the other person just puts it on an even number. Although sometimes I don’t mind it being on a multiple of 5 (15/20/25 etc). If it lands and stays on, for example, 23…god have mercy on your soul.
- I’ve lived in 3 houses, all have been odd numbered homes.
There’s bound to be more, but they are the main ones that have just come flying to the forefront of my mind.