I admit, it bothers me that symmetry is not a palindrome. And come to think of it, it bothers me that palindrome is not a palindrome.
My favorite time of day is 11:11 pm. When I do beading projects or sewing projects or knitting projects I am so wedded to symmetry that more than once I have knitted two left mittens. Which is the wrong sort of symmetry.
I get twitchy when table settings are not matching or at least coordinating or have some semblance of order. Which they usually don't so then I would rather not even try and just have a giant mismatch of violent colors. The table equivalent of saying "My preschooler dressed herself today" in response to the purple tights, hot pink shoes, green plaid shirt and sparkly sweater.
And when people sit down at a table, it should have a regular shape. Symmetrical. Square or rectangle or oval or kidney-shaped. I am not picky. Only sometimes people combine tables. And sometimes the tables don't fit together just right. And this makes me more than a little bit twitchy. I can actually feel myself breaking out in a rash. A cold sweat. I can't imagine sitting at the table.
Naturally at work-related outing we had to smash three tables together to fit us all and they formed a misshapen L. It would have been so easy to correct the problem, only no one else saw it as a problem and they were already sitting down and the big boss was there and I was already feeling a bit out of place so I didn't say anything.
I just sat there in the elbow of the L and pointedly did NOT look down so I could pretend the tables were aligned just so. At the time this made me feel like a freak. Now, looking back, I think it was an excellent strategy for coping with something that was causing me an irrational amount of stress.
And what is amazing to me is that even though I know that none of these things really matter... I am not Martha Stewart. I do not need the perfect place settings. Nothing horrible will happen if any of these anxiety-producing happenings occur.
But as with most irrational things, knowing does not help.
Knowing that the spider in the house is not venemous and perfectly harmless. Knowing that the creaking noises in the dark are just the sounds of an old house settling. Knowing that there is not a predator lurking around the street corner waiting to snatch your child.
Especially when the over-developed paranoia centers of the brain (which I am sure encompasses at least 85% of our gray matter) argue that although these things are UNLIKELY, it doesn't mean that they are impossible.
There could be a venemous spider in the house. Maybe a brown recluse. They look just like regular spiders, right? And they could be here. You don't know.
And maybe the creaking noises in the house are the sounds of an intruder stepping on the third stair that always complains when someone puts weight on it. Maybe it is the sound of a burglar already in your house.
And however unlikely the predatory child-snatcher is, we know from sensational news reports that this does in fact happen. Never mind looking at any statistics that your child is in much more danger of being killed in a car accident with you at the wheel than being swept up by a lurking menace... It happens to some children. It could happen to yours.
What's interesting is that I don't even have a bad outcome in mind for the things that wig me out. What will happen if the tables aren't even? I will be uncomfortable. Gee, what a dire consequence.
the time is 11:11 sie mit eht
tables set with careful eye lufe rach tiwt essel bat
all is surely level y ler us silla
this alone our tenet ru oe no la siht
symmetry in every deed yre veni yrt emmys
I admit, it bothers me that this word is not a palindrome. And come to think of it, it bothers me that palandrome is not a palandrome. My favorite time of day is 11:11 pm. When I do beading projects or sewing projects or knitting projects I am so wedded to symmetry that more than once I have knitted two left mittens. Which is the wrong sort of symmetry.
Quaker, teacher, parent,