Gerk
On my lunch break, I noted two peculiarities about my brain.
On the way to Jimmy John's, I noticed my ever-present echolalia. The wind was blowing like a motherfucker. A guy who was walking in a group of guys that I think might have included the director of my agency almost lost his cap to the wind when I thought fast and snatched it up before it was swept to the street. I was thanked, I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, and we were on our respective ways. For the next two minutes or so, the situation continued to play over in my head in repeat mode. This often happens in a situation where I've interacted with someone with whom I'm not familiar but I do respect, and where the interaction was brief enough that I tend to wonder (a) whether it actually happened or I just made it up, and (b) whether I handled it correctly. I think that these things repeat in my head to try to convince me of both.
Near the end of the block, I realized that, for the whole time since this encounter, I had been subconsciously but physically nodding my head every few seconds in reenactment of the moment. I had to consciously stop.
On the way back, I noticed my occasional tendency to have a runaway thought that I have to really pull on the reins to get to stop. As I was walking on the sidewalk, I had to steer clear of someone coming in the opposite direction. A notion that I frequently consider in such situations presented itself:
"If you are about to run into someone, pretend you're driving and go the direction you would in a car."
(If everyone heeded this advice, then the only trouble you'd ever have is visiting one of those places that still does the left thing. But I digress.)
My mind couldn't help suffixing this with:
"Unless you're a douchebag behind the wheel."
And apparently that wasn't enough.
"In which case you should pretend you don't drive like a dick, and then go the direction your hypothetical self would go in a car."
Brakes finally on.
I wonder if I have Tourette's.
On the way to Jimmy John's, I noticed my ever-present echolalia. The wind was blowing like a motherfucker. A guy who was walking in a group of guys that I think might have included the director of my agency almost lost his cap to the wind when I thought fast and snatched it up before it was swept to the street. I was thanked, I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, and we were on our respective ways. For the next two minutes or so, the situation continued to play over in my head in repeat mode. This often happens in a situation where I've interacted with someone with whom I'm not familiar but I do respect, and where the interaction was brief enough that I tend to wonder (a) whether it actually happened or I just made it up, and (b) whether I handled it correctly. I think that these things repeat in my head to try to convince me of both.
Near the end of the block, I realized that, for the whole time since this encounter, I had been subconsciously but physically nodding my head every few seconds in reenactment of the moment. I had to consciously stop.
On the way back, I noticed my occasional tendency to have a runaway thought that I have to really pull on the reins to get to stop. As I was walking on the sidewalk, I had to steer clear of someone coming in the opposite direction. A notion that I frequently consider in such situations presented itself:
"If you are about to run into someone, pretend you're driving and go the direction you would in a car."
(If everyone heeded this advice, then the only trouble you'd ever have is visiting one of those places that still does the left thing. But I digress.)
My mind couldn't help suffixing this with:
"Unless you're a douchebag behind the wheel."
And apparently that wasn't enough.
"In which case you should pretend you don't drive like a dick, and then go the direction your hypothetical self would go in a car."
Brakes finally on.
I wonder if I have Tourette's.