There’s a word for these. Phobias. Maybe you know the particular terms for each one.
- You pass a police car sitting beside a highway and automatically look in the rear-view mirror, clueless to any possible offense.
- Spiders or rats, just because others in my household freak out at the slightest suspicion.
- Any missing item. I’ll go squirrelly trying to find it.
- Saying the wrong thing … after the fact. Just what was it, anyway? How could that possibly have been offensive?
- I’m going to be late – or even miss it altogether. An airline flight, a crucial appointment, or just a big meeting, maybe even where I’m the featured attraction. But interruptions keep me from getting started out the door. And then there’s the possibility of bad traffic.
- Some undiagnosed affliction. Like cancer.
- Being powerless or helpless. Especially in the face of bureaucracy or injustice.
- Losing my keys.
- Can’t find the car. Not just a parking lot, either.
- Getting locked out of the house when everyone else is away.
’Fess up now. Add to the list.
Of course, this is totally unrelated to the theme. Just another thing on my mind.