My Very Rational, Irrational Fears

#1 - I am absolutely petrified of the dark. My husband makes fun of me allll the time about this. He says that there is nothing different about the dark than in the light, but he is SO wrong. The problem with the dark is that you don't know what's in the room!! Sure it's possible that the room looks the same in the light as the dark, but in the dark there could be someone hiding in a corner that you don't know about, or a boogie man hanging out in your closet, an you would have no idea until you were captured and dead.

#2 - Bees are Satan's coworkers. In my almost 21 years of existence I have never been stung by any kind of bee, and absolutely DREAD the day that it is going to happen. What if I am allergic and don't have an epee-pen and have to be rushed to the ER all because one nasty little bee stung me. I broke a window at work the other day because of a bee. I had been avoiding the ever-present killer-bee, that had somehow found its way into our little building. Being the only employee in the building at the time with a customer who was also scared of the little demon, I had to put on my big girl pants and do something about the creature. I was terrified that either A: I would miss the bee and piss it off, or B: I would just kind of hit it, stunning it for a second, and have an angry bee that wanted vengeance. I knew I had to kill it the first time or I risked the chance of getting stung. I rolled up a magazine and with all my might *SWACK!!!* The window shattered, and the bee was dead. Stupid bee.

#3 - I am also afraid of any kind of bug. Lady bugs, grasshoppers, butterflies, it doesn't matter. If it has more than 4 legs or is wormy I hate it and wish that it didn't exist.

#4 - NEEDLES..... When I was about 12 years old, I started getting pretty advanced in my piano studies. Along with more difficult songs came wrist and hand pain... It's a pretty sad tale because eventually I had to quit piano because my hands hurt so bad, but that's another story. In the process of trying to figure out what was wrong with my hands, I was sent to a neurologist to have a nerve study. For those of you who know what a nerve study is, I am very sorry. For those of you who don't, it's an exam where they stick electric needles in the effected area to test your nerve function. In other words, they torture you. I vividly remember laying on that exam bed being stuck over and over again, inbetween my fingers, in every joint in my hand, in my funny bone nerve, in my wrists, EVERYWHERE that bends or moves from tip of my fingers up to my elbows, and thus began my very very rational fear of needles. I get tense even thinking about flu shots.

     Sincerely,