Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng: Problem With The New HQ

I'll be the first to admit that I have issues. Certain things just bother me. I'm coping with it for the most part.

I think you might be impressed if you realized just how much of my day is spent repressing my paralyzing fear. I know, logically, that my fears are excessive. The problem is that another part of my brain seems to also find the fears themselves logical.

For example, clowns. Sure, they can seem fun at first. But who knows what lurks beneath the greasepaint. A seltzer bottle would not have done much good as defense against this guy:

I think, in certain cases, a fear of clowns is reasonable as it includes the survival instinct fear of being murdered.

Also, spiders. Even typing the word makes me shudder a little. Whenever I see one of the skittering little monsters my fight or flight response is triggered and heavily pre-weighted towards the flight side.

Again, logic tells me that almost all of them are harmless and actually beneficial to the environment. The part of my brain with access to Google reminds of this guy, though:

The Brown Recluse. With a bite that causes a horrible rotting injury and a preference for the environment inside shoes, the argument for not leaving the state upon seeing one is weak at best.

Then there are the parts of my brain which center around perceived sensations.

I do not have a fear of germs, but I wash my hands about a dozen times a day and use that hand sanitizer junk at a rate of about ten ounces a week.

I can't even walk past one of these signs without stopping to take the opportunity to scrub off a layer of skin:

The sign itself disturbs me, since it looks like the hands are smearing creamed corn all over themselves. That thought (and I have it every time) has me washing my hands again.

This is some bizarre variant of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and it can possibly be treated with medication.

The problem is I have a fear of doctors and western medicine in general, so I have to just work at keeping my condition at a manageable level.

And that is where the point of this post is going, if you've managed to stick with me this far.

Owning a pool, in any proximity to pine trees, is a nightmare freak-fest for anyone like me.

I can't even drive by the house without stopping to net needles out of the pool.

Yesterday I spent a total of 45 minutes doing it in six separate sessions.

1. See needles

2. Retrieve net

3. Scoop needles

4. See more needles

5. Scoop those needles

6. Get needles out of the net