Normal? Not me.

I have come to the conclusion that no one is 'normal'. 
I know I'm just a little to the side of normal
and you?
You definitely are off the beaten path.

I'm not Kidding.

I freely admit that I must be somewhere on the spectrum of something.

And I'm pretty sure you'll agree.

The following is a list of reasons why I know I need some kind of diagnosis.

I can't abide anything touching my face.
Anything at all.
Like.....
my hair.

I think everyone at the fabulous Awaken Aveda Spa and Salon knows that my hair is not allowed to touch my face.
AND
they even remind each other of that fact with a straight face. (Such solicitious attention to detail is why you all should grab your phone immediately and call for an appointment. These people are seriously AWESOME which is why people drive from all over the state for an appointment!!!)I'm sure that owner and miracle worker, Cade, knew he was in trouble soon after he introduced himself to me.
It probably became clear to him the minute he asked what I had in mind and I whipped out a picture of......
wait for it......
myself. 
Yes, I've heard of people bringing in pictures of celebrities....
eh, whatever.  I really liked that haircut.

How about this little nugget...

Both bottom and top sheet must be wrinkle free in order for me to sleep. Nightgowns wrap around my legs and trap me so t-shirts and tank tops are all I can sleep in. I will apologize for waking you up when I get out of bed to straighten sheets but I.will.straighten.them.

Most tags must be removed from my clothing and I have been known to remove a tag while still wearing the offending article of clothing! Many a blouse has been ruined due to itchy tags and impatience.
I like to think that my skin is just a bit more delicate than most.

This next little hinky dink (that's an official educational term I'll have you know) is unfortunate for someone in my profession.

Repetitive noises, especially those favored by the six and under age group, make.me.want.to.be.violent! I have a rule in my classroom.
It's called
No weird noises.
It covers humming one note for hours, tapping, clicking your tongue, kicking the table leg that rattles, nonsensical sounds or fake mechanical noises.

Most little kids are nice about it.

My husband finds it ridiculous. He can pop his gum louder than the sonic booms caused by the aircraft in our area and if I so much as flinch he gives me the...
'you are so dumb' look.
And continues.

Rude! 
It makes me want to lock him in a small room and blast rap music or songs with repetitive lyrics at him.

Much like Sheldon, a character of one of my favorite sitcoms, The Big Bang Theory, I like to sit in one spot.
Surrounded by my stuff.
In my big chair.
Unlike Sheldon, I will not make you get up and move.
But I will wish that you would anyway.

I constantly rock, sway, wiggle and jiggle.
I like to say that I am fidgety.
The rocking started after I became a mother and discovered the joy of rocking small people.
I just haven't been able to stop.
My children won't allow me to rock them anymore so I blame them.

I can't eat anything slimy or anything I perceive as slimy like raw oysters or boiled okra.
Yes, southerners really do boil that stuff and eat it.
On purpose. (Great big shudder)
My mom tried all of my childhood to make me love the stuff.
All I can say is Thank God for big brothers who can be really sneaky.
Also if you live on Fairmont Rd in Greenville, SC there might be a really great compost heap in your side yard just beyond the driveway.
Just sayin......

Also, my socks have to reach all the way to my knees and must not wrinkle in my shoes. As I prepare to put on a new pair of sock I tell them that I am not afraid to throw them away.
It seems to help. 

One of my earliest memories is of nearly pushing my father (who is not a violent man) to commence beating me because he refused to tell me which frilly white church sock went on the right foot and which one was for the left foot. To this day, I know there is
WAS a difference.
Just sayin......

I refuse to take any liquid medication.
I twirl my hair.
I overuse nasal spray because if I can't breathe through my nose I'm convinced I'm probably near death.
I need white noise to sleep.
I don't like the sound dogs make when they lick themselves.
Someone reading over my shoulder makes me a little more crazy.
I love, love, love Star Wars, and fantasy novels.
And PLEASE GOD!

Don't let my underwear crawl.

Just sayin....................

PS-Feel free to confess your own personal hinky dinks in the comments. I shouldn't be out here alone.