Pointless Resolutions: A Case Study in Neurosis
Being rather neurotic and a tad obsessive/compulsive, I’ve managed in my lifetime to amass quite a few quirks. Some of these quirks are rather obvious and I’m helpless to hide them from people, like my penchant for only getting one haircut a year when it starts to warm up. Others are pretty discrete and most people would never notice them, like my conscious decision in 2007 to being always type “ok” instead of “okay” because I hated the way the Y looked in most common instant messenger fonts. The latter was a decision arrived at despite several days of inner turmoil regarding the fact that Microsoft Office red squiggles the two-letter spelling.
Whether subtle or radical, however, one thing remains the same: the sheer ridiculousness of the rituals I find myself committing to for absolutely no rational reason whatsoever. In the spirit of humbling myself through public self-deprecation, I’ve decided to list a small sample of my idiosyncrasies.
- I make it a point to use the word “idiosyncrasy” at least once a week. I haven’t missed a week in about a year and a half. I sometimes plan for this days ahead of time in anticipation of specific conversations which I know I can sway in the direction of a satisfying usage.
- If I’m in bed and I wake up with a digital clock in view, I will challenge myself to arithmetically manipulate the digits into a result of 8 (my favorite number… because it’s infinity turned sideways) before I get up.
- I once was told that I used the acronym “LOL” too much and so I resolved to only ever use the word “hehe” during typed expressions of humorous appreciation. This lasted for several years until someone told me I typed “hehe” too much, at which point I decided to alternate usages of “LOL” and “hehe” across conversations. I’ve kept this up for about a year now.
- It took me over a year and a half to find a pair of sweatpants that fit my exacting criteria in all of five separate categories which I had identified and documented in an Excel spreadsheet. The spreadsheet was archived in a special folder of similar decision making aides until I successfully made a purchase.
- I’ve been known to lose my friends at malls when I absent-mindedly stay behind to organize messy store shelves.