Great Start... Or Not (Day 1)

Classes began today. As a result, I kept assuming that it was Monday, inevitably leading to some confusion.

Me: Why aren't you at yoga?

[Grammy looks at me like I am crazy]

Later...

Me: Here's the schedule for tomorrow.[Hand schedule to Boss Lady, who doesn't work on Fridays]

[Boss Lady looks at me like I am crazy]

See the common theme?

My blunders were not restricted to the uncertainty regarding the day. I apparently wrote the wrong room number on my schedule. In the past, I would record my classes into an agenda, digital calendar, or nearby Post-It (depending on what I fancied at the time) prior to the start of each quarter. I would check the time and room numbers at least three times to ensure that I made no errors. Despite this extra effort, I still lacked confidence in my transcribing abilities, so I would access the school site on my phone and check the information immediately before I entered the lecture hall. This time, I did not check the information (I blame SSRIs and their efficacy in the treatment of OCD).

I arrived early, so I was able to choose a dark seat in the back (as I am a vampire and despise light). I sent a few emails and did a little work on my computer while waiting for class to start. Approximately ten minutes before the class was to begin, the professor entered and attempted to locate his lecture slides. I looked up at the projector, curious as to what was lurking within his computer. A few titles caught my eye...

"Horror1"

"Horror2"

"Screaming"

"The Walking Dead"

Huh.

That's odd...

I guess neuroscientists are allowed to have other interests. 

Content with my rationalization, I went back to my work. When he finally got the PowerPoint up, I noticed the title "Flesh and Blood", which was accompanied with a still from the movie Psycho and the cover of Twilight.

Is he messing with us?

Maybe he is trying to get us excit-

The professor began his lecture. "The readings for this class are titled 'Horror' and..."

Crap.

I'm in the wrong class.

Luckily, the location of my actual class was only next door. I recovered quickly and took a seat. I reached in my bag to find my notebook. My bag seems to have the storage capacity of Hermione's hexed purse in The Deathly Hallows whenever I cannot find something, so placed it on my lap to facilitate the search. My hand swept from side to side. Nope. Not there. Well done, Sam. You lost your notebook, too.

Intentional vs. Accidental Imperfections

A few years ago, my brother and I discussed my general displeasure with imperfections. His professor had recently purchased a new car, and like most new car owners, he was anxious about its well-being. 

What if someone hits it?

What if I scratch it?

What if I spill something? 

What if-

... and so on. 

Apparently, this anxiety grew to be more distressing than that which would occur with any actual damage. So, he obtained a baseball bat and hit the bottom of his brand new car. 

His intent was not to damage the car severely enough to impair its function nor to negatively affect the appearance; he simply wanted to make it imperfect. He did, and the anxiety disappeared. This may sound a bit crazy (I thought so, too). However, I realized that I did a similar thing with my textbooks. 

When I got a new book, I was terrified of damaging it. The thought of even bending a page was nausea-inducing. You can imagine this made reading somewhat difficult (I actually considered reading my textbooks with gloves, but I realized that would escalate my crazy to a whole new level of absurdity). Forced to touch the pages with my ungloved hands, I tentatively read, turning the pages slowly with my freshly washed hands. As you can imagine, this was pretty exhausting, not to mention stressful. So, I thought of a loophole.

If I just bent a page, highlighted the text without a ruler, or did something as equally heinous to a book, I would immediately stop panicking about it. It was imperfect; thus, any attempts of preserving its nonexistent perfection were futile. I could breathe a sigh of relief.

Of course, I now take medication for OCD and that makes everything a hell of a lot easier. I can actually use my books without intentionally damaging them beforehand (I turn the pages and everything!)... but I still do not trust other people, so bugger off.