Pieces of me

I was reading over at Cheaper Than Therapy this morning, and today's post got me thinking about some weird little things that make me ME:

1.  I took three years of Education for Ministry, an extension course through the University of the South that is taught on the local level at Episcopal churches.  Toward the end of the second year, the instructor (not a priest, a layperson) made a pass at me which somehow ruined the whole church experience for me.  At that point I was very involved-I taught Bible School, was in the choir, was very involved in a prayer group etc.  I started having panic attacks and wondered if I'd somehow given that person REASON to think he could do that, and it just lost its luster for me.  I'm sorry, but I don't like my spiritual leaders to have feet of clay.  Within six months, I quit attending church and my class altogether.

2.  I count.  I count steps.  I count the times I swallow when I drink and try to make them come out in multiples of ten (which can get somewhat cornfusing toward the end of a beer sodden evening).  I count sheets of toilet paper.  It doesn't matter so much how many of anything there are, I just have to count them.  I'm a counter.

3.  There is a particular bump in the west bound lane of I10 just past mile marker 56 which spans the entire width of the right lane.  I HAVE to hit that bump.  I WILL CUT YOUR ASS OFF to hit that bump.  My life might as well depend on it.  And-if I hit it JUST RIGHT it is almost like it is not there.  Those days I feel particularly lucky and get an insatiable urge to hit the casinos.

4.  I have a penchant for white cotton fabric.  This is not practical, as I have water problems that prevent white fabrics from staying white, but I will still buy just about anything made out of white cotton.  I must have a hundred white cotton t-shirts, white cotton (800, count'em 800 threadcount!) sheets, and ohmygoodness the kitchen towels.  I have enough white cotton tea towels to keep all the high school cafeterias in Mississippi sopped up for decades.

5.  The only number I have to give anyone as an emergency contact is Walmart's number, and I just tell them to page me overhead.  I'm more likely to be there than anywhere.

Well, enough of digging through my panty drawer for today.  I'm off to Mobile to go to Fresh Market since I couldn't go yesterday.  I'm sure they will have organic plain yogurt and fresh corn for Ahab (he's eating CORN-Hallelujah!) and some broccolini for me since I'm obsessing (go figure).  Hopefully the Purv will agree to go with, cuz then I can justify lunch at Olive Garden or the Jerusalem Cafe.  If not, I'll settle for a gyro.  

ENJOY your day!