Friday, June 08, 2007

Five ridiculous theories my overactive imagination has cooked up

(Some are recent; some are not-so-recent but ongoing. All prove that I really ought to give my brain some better things to do.)


  1. I've had to squash four tiny spiders in my house in the past week. On one hand, ew; I hate spiders (bugs of all kinds, really). On the other hand, I am a little bit relieved. For months and months I saw not a single insect within my home. Also, in the nearly four years that I've lived there, I've yet to see even one mouse (knocking on wood furiously as I type that). Instead of taking this good fortune in stride, however, and entertaining the idea that my drafty old house might be more effectively sealed than I suspected, my kitchen more clean and food particle-free than I thought, I decided that there must be some silent toxin in my house that has exterminated all the bugs and is slowly killing me as well. No bugs surely must be a dire warning sign, a canary-in-the-mine phenomenon, if you will.

  2. Even though there are no bugs in my house, there's no shortage of them outside my house, unfortunately. The ants determined to take over my yard came back again this spring, and I remain convinced that the thousands that have made their way to the surface are just a fraction of the massive ant underworld surely living beneath my feet. I keep laying bait and killing colonies (I learned this last year--you need to bait them, not spray them), but they keep popping up again elsewhere, in equally large numbers each time. I really am frightened to resume my landscaping projects this summer, as I'm worried that when I dig down to unroot the unwanted shrubs in front of my house, I'll finally find the wriggling solid mass of ants I've suspected has been living and growing there all along. *Shudder*

  3. Lots of people probably have the occasional stubborn headache that they worry is a brain tumor. How many of them, however, become so scared it might be a stroke that they actually stare into the mirror trying to decide if one side of their face seems to be falling? Not many, I suspect. That one really might be just me. It was just the one time, but still. (Honestly, Stefanie...)

  4. Because hypochondria is apparently a hobby for me, I have also decided that my expanding abdomen isn't due just to my inability to say no to wine, cheese, and cake nor to the slowing metabolism that comes with age, but that instead I am one of those people with a volleyball-sized tumor growing in her stomach who has no idea there is anything wrong. (Mind you, I cannot actually imagine going to a doctor to say, "Um, I think I might have a stomach tumor," but the thought is there nonetheless.)

  5. There is a bar not too far from my house that I refuse to go to with dates, because I am convinced there is a curse on the place. I will go there with friends (not that my friends and I actually ever go there); it is just women on dates whom the curse seems to affect. I won't bother explaining all the very real evidence giving credence to this theory (I have at least four different stories that serve as proof); I will say just that I have given this theory so much thought that I've actually even decided upon the source of the date-jinxing curse. There's an enormous wooden burlesque dancer bolted to the wall above the bar, and I think she holds the spirit of a jilted lover who has decided to make all women who pass under her gaze suffer unhappiness in love as well. I have actually shared this theory with three different men (after they suggested going to this bar), and oddly, all of them still went out with me after that blatant admission of "Hello, I'm crazy." Note that I am not still dating any of them, however. Perhaps they were just being polite and making a slow, silent retreat.



So tell me. Am I the only one with this brand of lunacy brewing in my brain? Surely you've all got your own set of totally real-to-you theories the rest of the world just doesn't understand... Spill them and make me feel better, OK? Thanks.

11 comments:

thethinker said...

I'm a hypochondriac, too. I just can't seem to help the fact that everything is wrong with me.

Maliavale said...

OMG. The ants, in a mass, under your yard? *shudder*

Noelle said...

Today, I drove around the block three times in order to get my mileage to exactly 9,000 before getting my oil changed. When did I change it last? Exactly 6,000 miles. I'm a bit worried for myself, because 12,000 is going to happen somewhere between here and St. Paul, and I'm already freaking out abut missing it. Not exactly a superstition, but that makes it impossible for me to judge you.

I assume every mild illness is a tumor. It just makes sense.

Heidi said...

But the evidence of the curse is the best part! Spill!

The Other Girl said...

Something is going on with the ants, I think. The last couple of years I've seen big colonies in every crack in the sidewalk. I also found an ant farm in my basement recently next to a small crack in the concrete floor and, although I hate to kill anything, I had to Raid them back to the stone age before they found their way upstairs.

lizgwiz said...

I don't have an emotional problem with creepy-crawlies (I tend to let the little spiders in the corners stay, because they catch the mosquitos), but I did have a similar sort of suspicion when I moved into my current house a couple of years ago. There were so many fewer spiders, compared to the old house, that I started to wonder if there was some sort of gas leak or something. So your fear makes perfect sense to me! ;)

And maybe your stomach tumor isn't really a tumor, but one of those weird "fetus in fetu" things with hair and teeth, and it's starting to grow, like some creepy Stephen King novel. Just something to think about. Hee. (Ooh, I'm evil.)

Darren McLikeshimself said...

Whenever I get one of those kinds of stroke headaches, I repeat my social security number to myself over and over again because I figure being able to recall information like that would be one of the first things to go.

LC said...

Stefanie,

I am a hypochondriac by learned behavior, and this past few weeks I've had one too many hypo moments, after watching the three complete seasons of House, one after the other.

I'd wake up and check myself in the mirror every morning before heading to work.

It's posts like this that make me feel I am not alone.

Thank you.

stefanie said...

Thinker--I know what you mean. Sucks, doesn't it?

Malia--I know. I'm sorry. I got enough backlash for creeping people out with that story last year; it really was a bit cruel of me to revisit it.

Noelle--Wow. That's so quirky, I am almost jealous. I'm not nearly that dedicated to any of my weird theories or obsessions.

Heidi--OK, but it's too long a story for a comment. I'll add it to Part 2 of my dating questions post, OK? (I don't think I've seen you in the comments before, so if you just stopped by and have no idea what I'm talking about, you'll have to scroll down a bit.) ;-)

TOG--No, see, you're supposed to bait them! Not Raid them! That way they take the bait back, kill the queen, and presumably wipe out the colony. (See the things I learned from the Internet?) Incidentally, everyone's all up in arms about the disappearance of the bumblebees, but what about the takeover by the ants??

Liz--AAAAAAGGGGGHHHH. Now, that's just mean. :-(

Darren--That's a good tip. Probably better than checking my face to see if one side looks lower than the other.

LC--I do what I can. ;-)

NancyPearlWannabe said...

Ants freak me out more than they probably should. Especially the giant crunchy black ones. Thankfully I have yet to see any type of unwanted critter in my apartment this year. Of course, I do get the occasional dead bird in my car, but on the whole...

stefanie said...

Agh. I'm still shuddering over that story, NPW. I guess I'll take the ants over the dead bird. Ew.