There are a million things that I DON'T get paranoid about. I found out the other day that the hand soap I have been buying for the last three years is not anti-bacterial, nor is the Dawn dish soap that I use on almost every surface of my house. There are times that I forget to wash my hands before I eat. I have a ground-level apartment, yet I keep my bedroom window open at night when the weather permits. My chicken and beef are not organic or grass-fed, and I've never checked to see if they claim to be hormone free. I do know that the milk I buy on sale at Wal-Greens every third week or so says, "There have been no studies to suggest that milk from cows given hormones have any measurable effect on humans." Don't get me wrong, I've watched Food, Inc. and have watched enough Castle to know about all the serial killers on the loose, but for right now, these things don't bother me.
Cars however, are another story. Every morning I have a routine: After I start the car, it has to run until the engine shifts or the RPMs decrease (I have no idea what's happening, I just know I wait for that!) I roll the windows down and listen carefully for anything that might suggest a belt is failing or the cam shaft synchronizer is breaking down again. Heaven help me on the days that it's wet or exceptionally humid outside, because that's when the belt is more likely to squeal and give me a heart attack.
As I'm driving, I am very careful to listen to any disturbances in the force. Any time there is the slightest noise, the radio and air/heat are turned off so I can listen for the problem. Normally, the "problem" is me hearing something in the background of the song. There are two or three songs that I can no longer listen to because I always "hear" a problem. Again, paranoia. At intersections, I will occasionally hear a strange chirping or whirring. Radio turned down, air/heat off, I roll down the window and try to determine if it's my car or coming from another vehicle. So far, it's always been the other vehicle. Now, after a few situations like the one at the beginning of the story, there are a few roads that drive me crazy just because of how the car handles on them. The intersection of Trolley and 165? Nope. The parking lot of Bi-Lo? Forget it. The stretch of Gahagan right before the church, and then the limestone parking lot of the church? Nightmare.
At the end of the day, it's just another quirk that I have to get out of my system. When I had Reggie (who had more serious problems like shutting down when I used the turn signal or even just as I drove down the road) I drove everywhere, drove in every climate, day or night. That car was older than Ditto is now, had the "check engine" light on for almost a year, and had it's bumper fastened to the rest of the car with two bungee cords and some zip ties (my dad is an ingenious man), yet I had no problem driving other people through remote stretches of Amish country in it. So clearly, it's time to put post-road trip paranoia behind me and enjoy riding around in my car. I'm sure that sentiment will last until tomorrow. Ha.
Well, it is time to call it a night for a few reasons. 1.) The dog got in the trash, and I must go pick it up before he carries it everywhere. 2.) There is thing thing called work... 3.) The laundry was probably done half an hour ago and needs to be picked up before they lock the room. Oops. Have a good night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my mom. Wish I was there to celebrate!
