Fraidy Cat

The radio station I listen to in the morning has been talking, lately, about celebrity fears. Which, of course, got me thinking about the things that I am afraid of.

I’d like to tell you that I’m totally fearless. Of course, I’d also like to tell you that I look like Angelina Jolie. These would both be huge, outrageous lies.

However, after taking the time to reflect on my fears, I have discovered something about myself. And that something is this: I am a DOOFUS.

I am NOT afraid of things that should probably scare the bejeezus out of me. I wouldn’t be afraid to run into a burning building. If I saw someone who was being assaulted, I would wade right in (and we all know that I’ve actually DONE that, which didn’t work out so well, but whatever). I’m not afraid of dying or flying or heights.

I am, however, afraid of the following:

1.       Clowns. Clowns and their scary, scary, “I’m going to eat your soul” painted on smiles. I don’t love the circus and I don’t love a parade because CLOWNS HANG OUT THERE. Who loves a clown? NO ONE. NO ONE LOVES A CREEPTASTIC SCARY CLOWN.

2.       Spiders. I have a couple of friends who love spiders. I love my friends, but have to question their sanity when it comes to this. Here’s the thing about spiders: too many legs, too many eyes, too much deliberately slow and stalker-y movement. They make my spine itch.

3.       Bridges. And tunnels. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, and trying to explain it makes me sound crazy even to MYSELF, but there you are. Bridges scare the CRAP out of me. I can drive over them, but if I’m a passenger? OH THE TERROR. (This is, I willingly admit, super dumb. But it is true nonetheless. See how I am willing to expose my insanity for your reading pleasure?!)

4.       I am afraid of going to sleep with the closet door open. Because MONSTERS, that’s why.

5.       Freakishly lifelike dolls. Um, really. WHY do these exist.

6.       The dentist – I can’t even discuss this rationally.

7.       Going to parties. (I love parties. I love being at parties. I love being invited to parties. It’s just the getting myself there … for some reason, I get stressed out and then I’m freaking out and then I can’t go, even though I totally want to hang out.)

So yeah. I should have titled this post “Freak of Nature” instead of “Fraidy Cat” but then, my freak status is already pretty well established, I guess.  

At any rate, I’m told that the first step to conquering your fears is admitting them. So there you go. Granted, I don’t KNOW what the second step is, but it better not involve a clown or I’m out of there.