I have some ‘quirks’-
a shit load not many admittedly, but a few.
I like my iced tea unsweetened and my hot tea sweet.
See, nothing weird there.
I prefer to listen to NEWS radio whilst driving and not music. Music mellows my go-to road rage default position thus interfering with my daily release of frustration on unassuming fellow motorists.
Nothing odd so far.
I must have the house tidied-up before I retire for the evening and again before I leave for the day. My theory is that if a burglar shows up he will be so impressed with the perfect placement of the art that he’ll immediately fall in love with me and leave me flowers
move on instead of making my life complicated. Same goes for the police.
I’m nothing if not always thinking ahead.
My whole ‘behind-closed-doors’ thing is organized to within an inch of it’s life. If my
shit clutter doesn’t, in fact, LOOK like clutter then it’s not really clutter. Right?
Well, that’s my story and I’m storing it in clear plastic non-quirky boxes- that are labeled and color coordinated.
I have been known to ask for a pre-set menu selection to be changed in accommodation to my mood. I am also a tomato snob and I like my meat dead. Do not decorate my plate with little dribbles of saffron colored glaze unless it actually adds to the flavor explosion I fully expect to take place in my mouth after having spent three times the going rate for a plated leaf from the green grocer we all shop. You are not playing with an amateur here.
Or someone that has been known to actually go INTO a professional kitchen. Nope.
I tend to throw things away if they appear to have no positive purpose or someone has forgotten to put them in their proper place
ply them with reverence— for a while. Am I talking ‘objects’?
Okay. We’ll go with that.
I can’t seem to NOT talk during a movie. Things just pop into my head and I have to discuss.
Sometimes they actually have to do with the movie. Oh ohhhh.
I have/use/depend upon LISTS. I have so many lists that I have lists that tell me where the other lists are. It’s called a ‘system’.
Don’t judge. It works. Mostly. Unless I can’t find the List and then I’m immobile until I throw salt over my shoulder, spin three times to the West, and cluck like a chicken.
No Quirks here.