I won’t lie, I have a slight-tendency to jog briskly when crossing the street if a car is sort of coming, even though afterward when I’m on the other side, I realize, “Wow, I really didn’t have to jog,” cause that car is darn farther away than I thought. And there’s always some guy on the other side that’s seen the whole thing that gives me this look, you know, like, “Calm down there,” he’s shaking his head, and yeah I get sort of embarrassed, cause I overreacted, misjudged, whathaveyou, but that’s just who I am.
If a leaf falls on me from out of nowhere, five or six times out of ten I’m probably gonna jerk wildly thinking it’s bird-droppings or a squirrel or something. I guess I have one of those nervous-dispositions we’re always hearing about, constantly jumping to the conclusion that more often than not spells death or, at the least, a good old fashioned maiming. But hey, constantly trying to maintain your cool is hard work (i.e when you trip and then pretend it was the beginning of a skip) so I’m getting ahead of the game by declaring to the world: I’m a jumpy mofo. Yeah so if there’s a wasp on the subway (this happened, for real) I’m gonna freak the heck out, seriously. Bring it on danger, I’m ready to wince.