The Fear of Garlic

I scare myself sometimes, not in a massive way but enough for me to question everything. Today I crossed the road without realising it. I crossed a road and had no recollection of how or when I did it. I think I must have been distracted. I'm often distracted, sometimes by clouds, sometimes by questions like 'what are Mini Cheddars?'. That is a valid question right? Are they crisps? Biscuits? Crackers? I just don't know.

In other news, I think phobias are really funny. not in a horrendous sadistic way but I find them so interesting. There are people out there that have a fear of garlic. I can understand not liking it, but a fear? Hardcore garlic hatred. My favourite phobias are (I kid you not, these are all real phobias); the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth, the fear of ugliness, the fear of chopsticks, hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia - the fear of long words, the fear of bald people. I mean, I'd love all of those. Although It would kill my quality of life to go without peanut butter and chop sticks, but i can deal with it.

There is one thing I am seriously petrified of though, no it's not spiders, or the dark or the ghost of Michael Jackson. I have a fear of wrists. How ridiculous. Of all things in the whole entire world of doom, gloom and horror the thing that tears me apart are wrists. I can't do pull ups because it makes my wrists look funny, the same goes with arm wrestles. I can walk through the woods in the dead of night, spend a night in a haunted house, and shake the lavender bush to see if any bees chase me and yet someone showing me their wrist almost kills me.

Well, at least I don't have a fear of trees, beards or poetry. That last sentence does not in any way represent my life or hobbies, it was taken randomly from a list. I promise.