Everyone has a couple of curious habits. In wealthy people, they’re called eccentricities, but for the rest of us, they’re just quirks. Some of those quirks, like cravings for butterbeans or ice cream, stick with us our entire lives; others, we outgrow or grow into. My own quirks include:
- A compulsive desire to Windex the bathroom countertop while I’m gargling mouthwash;
- A compulsive desire to open the microwave door before my coffee has been fully reheated (preferably when the countdown hits a prime number);
- A compulsive desire to kiss boys.
Recently–within the past year–I’ve added a quirk to the list that’s probably peculiar to New Orleanians. I don’t know if it has to do with the hurricane or with my neighborhood’s tendency to lose power every time it rains, but, well, I’m kind of afraid of the weather.
I noticed it on Saturday when I was working in the garden. I looked up to see a big storm cloud overhead, and then the wind picked up, and then…well, I don’t know exactly what came over me, but suddenly I found myself running around the yard, securing loose objects and frantically trying to get all four hounds and one of the cats back inside. By the time I’d shut the door behind me, I must’ve resembled a heady blend of Dorothy Gale (in my heaving-bosomed vulnerability) and Auntie Em (in my attire). At least, that’s what I could gather from the puzzled look on Tania’s very expressive face.
So I’m wondering, is it just me? And more importantly, am I going to be doing this all summer long? ‘Cause I, like Miss Mary J herself, would prefer to have far less drama in my life.
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