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“Are you taking your vitamins with chopsticks now?” Bob seemed slightly concerned.
“Yes, I am,” I told him.
“What happened to the tweezers?”
“They didn’t really work. Chopsticks are much better.”
“Oh, I was starting to worry.”
Once after Mass at “second church” at our favorite little joint, I pulled my little pill thingy out of my bag to take my morning supplements with breakfast and noticed my fingers were all yellow. I was baffled. I just wiped them off and went on with the rest of my day, forgetting all about it. Until a while later I was putting on a white top and saw some bright yellow stains all around where I would naturally grab to yank the top down. What the heck?
Turmeric. My turmeric supplement was the culprit. I went on Amazon and read the reviews of this highly recommended brand and sure enough, many people posted to be careful when taking them because they stained clothes, counters, and basically anything else they came into contact with. They had no solutions or hacks so I was left to my own devices.
Thus, I now take my supplements with chopsticks. Bonus: I’m sharpening my chopstick skills!
Bob’s raised eyebrows are the perfect punctuation to any of my quirky moments. He’s used to it by now, but once in a while I see him pause thinking, “Should I ask?” Most of the time he doesn’t. He is probably thinking, “What’s the weirdest thing she’ll do today?”
If you were worried about me before, this post is probably not going to make you feel any better. Or, it might just make you feel a little better about your own little quirks. We’ll see.
But the fact is, we’ve probably all got them. One survey by a British research company found that about 8 in 10 people admit to having at least one “weird” habit, with the most common quirks being:
Repeatedly checking locks or switches.
Eating foods in a particular order or pattern (e.g., saving the best for last).
Talking to inanimate objects like cars or appliances.
I do all these. But to be fair, my car “talks” to me, so I don’t think that one is that weird.
Here, in no particular order, are some of my quirks. (Just some. This is the short list. You’re welcome.)
I need to have all the products in my medicine cabinet aligned and facing labels out. If they are even “slightly” off I actually spend time rotating them until they are right. Part 2 of this is that I have to have them grouped according to the time of day they are used (if applicable).
If I am driving to Fort Wayne, even if I know exactly where I am going and have been there one million times in the past, I still think through “alternate routes.” Like, if for some reason I can’t get in the left lane, I know I can turn right at that one intersection, go around and come out at a light where I can then turn right into the left lane. (This one sounds a little crazy even to me.)
Another one (that may be diagnostic) is that I count to seven when I am dispensing paper towels in public restrooms. Not the individual sheet dispensers, but the ones with the lever that you push down. I don’t try to do it, my brain just does it, and my brain says to stop at seven so I do.
Clothes folding really deserves its own subcategory. I could give a workshop on it. But it rears its head at times like this: I’m putting away Bob’s socks and notice that he has pulled one pair out, probably to see which ones they were, changed his mind, and put them back in upside down. Can’t have it. Must fix it.
There are perfectly reasonable reasons why I do each of these things. (She said, to all the people raising their eyebrows right now…)
A lot of these habits come down to my need for control, comfort, or a way of coping with the world around me.
Arranging the labels on my medicine cabinet isn’t just about being (weirdly) tidy—it's about creating a sense of order in my day. And, maybe as importantly, making sure I’m not putting hair gel on my face by accident when I’m sleepy or tired. Also, it is a bit of an anxiety-reducer (a theme you will see shortly). I need some calm places for my eyes to rest and when things are in their places it is like taking a deep breath.
Those “alternate routes” I mentally plan during the drive to Fort Wayne? It’s not that I am afraid I’ll get lost. It’s more about reducing my anxiety by having options in case something unexpected happens. If something goes wrong (like traffic or a detour), I already have a mental safety net. It’s my way of staying one step ahead and feeling ready for whatever comes my way.
The paper towel dispensing quirk is maybe a little harder to explain. I’m pretty sure it’s not a deep psychological issue (at least, I haven’t looked up “paper towel dispenser rituals” on WebMD yet). But there’s something soothing about that little pattern. It’s a mini-routine that my brain seems to enjoy—having a rhythm or a set of steps feels like a small moment of control. Plus I end up with just about the right amount of towel. (I mean it’s not like I’m counting to fifty, right?)
And then, the socks (all the folding quirks, really). Like most people, I have had some moments in my life where everything felt like it was spinning out of control. So something like the state of a sock drawer felt like one of the few things I could control. Plus, it saves time. Rather than pawing through a jumbled pile of socks, it’s fast and easy to see a pair you want, grab, and go. Having clothes put away neatly is also similar to having the medicine cabinet organized. It’s a calm place for my eyes to rest. Unless Bob puts the socks back upside down then, whoa. Stand back.
I was feeling the need to share this quirky stuff because the chopsticks method was a recent add to a long list of eccentricities of mine, so it’s been on my mind. I think there is something to sharing these things with each other. Connecting through our sometimes confusing and messy “human-ness” can help us accept our own quirks and be more tolerant and understanding of others.
I’d love to hear yours.
Now, it’s time for my afternoon turmeric. Where’d I put the chopsticks?
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