I have a completely irrational relationship with numbers.
Not all numbers.
I'm not over here judging the number 37.
Thirty-seven seems lovely.
It's the numbers in my life that become a problem.
My brain has rules.
I did not make the rules.
I do not understand the rules.
But apparently...
I am expected to follow them.
Let's start with the gas station.
I have one simple request.
Can my gas total be an even number?
Apparently not.
If the price lands on exactly $40.00...
The gallons are 11.736.
If I somehow manage to stop at exactly 12 gallons...
The total is $41.83.
I have become convinced this is an elaborate psychological experiment.
There is no other explanation.
The gas pump knows.
I stand there trying to stop on an even number like I'm performing surgery.
Thirty-nine ninety-six...
Thirty-nine ninety-eight...
THIRTY-NINE NINETY-NI—
Forty dollars and twenty-three cents.
Fantastic.
We were so close.
Then there's the clock.
My brain absolutely refuses to begin important things at random times.
5:38?
Ridiculous.
Who's starting anything at 5:38?
Obviously...
We'll wait until 5:40.
Never mind that waiting until 5:40 means I've just spent two minutes...
Waiting...
To save absolutely zero time.
Logic has left the building.
Sometimes it gets worse.
I look at the clock.
It's 6:57.
Well...
Can't possibly start now.
Three minutes until seven.
Might as well wait.
Then it's 7:00.
Perfect.
Except...
Now I should probably get coffee first.
7:08.
Well...
Obviously we're waiting until 7:10.
You see how productive this system is.
The funniest part?
My brain genuinely believes the even number possesses magical properties.
As though beginning at 6:30 somehow guarantees success.
Whereas 6:29 practically invites disaster.
I've caught myself doing this with volume controls too.
The TV cannot be on 17.
It needs to be 18.
Or 20.
Or 22.
Not 17.
What is this?
Chaos?
Timers.
Same thing.
I don't set a timer for 13 minutes.
Absolutely not.
It's 10.
Apparently my microwave is also expected to respect the rules.
People love to say,
"Just start."
Friend...
I would love to.
Unfortunately...
It's currently 4:53.
The universe has spoken.
Now...
Do I actually believe something terrible will happen if I begin at an odd time?
No.
Of course not.
I'm fully aware this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
Which somehow makes it even funnier.
My logical brain is standing over in the corner saying,
"You know this isn't real, right?"
Meanwhile...
My ADHD brain is already setting an alarm for 8:00 because beginning at 7:58 feels deeply irresponsible.
I've spent years trying to understand why I do this.
Maybe it's about creating tiny bits of order in a brain that often feels delightfully chaotic.
Maybe even numbers feel...
Finished.
Balanced.
Neat.
Like little punctuation marks.
Who knows?
Brains are weird.
Mine certainly is.
These days...
I laugh more than I fight it.
If waiting until 5:40 helps me start...
Fine.
I'll take it.
Because here's what I've learned.
The goal isn't to become someone whose brain makes perfect sense.
The goal is to understand the wonderfully strange little operating system you've been given.
Mine apparently runs on coffee...
Glitter...
Kevin the squirrel...
And numbers that end in zero.
Although...
If the gas station ever lets me stop on exactly $40.00 and exactly 10 gallons...
I'll know one thing for certain.
Kevin has finally been promoted to Regional Manager.
