I totally related when I saw this gem pop up on a “if you liked this article then….read these millions of other ones and lose a saturday afternoon on the internet in bliss” sort of suggested things. You know, I get sucked into reading, I love it.
That said, I totally and utterly agree with her Ice Breaker Game anxiety affliction. For funsies, here’s another 5 that I “suffer” with.
- Number Being Called Short Term Memory Lapse. Without fail, whether it’s in the butcher line, the DMV or at the doctor, when my name or number is called I have a ten second lapse of what the heck I was even doing there, or what I wanted or anything. I stare blankly as if my own name is being said in Bulgarian. I stand up and follow my number or name to whoever’s calling it and somewhere in that trek of 15 feet, somehow my memory snaps back into place and aha! I know what I wanted – a ribeye, thank you!
- You order First Syndrome. I don’t like ordering first. and then I feel guilty when I don’t. What if my fellow patrons just want me to not spend the most ? Is that an off feeling? I really just want to know what everyone else is getting so that I don’t order the same thing, or what may have sounded better than the dish that I chose – depending on the company that I’m with. I mean, I’m less likely to want to order the same thing of someone who will share a bite.
- Stop sign “Who Got There First?” disorder – I edge out. Slam brakes. They edge out. I wave my hand. They blink their blinkers. OMG. Just DRIVE already. Eek. Go. Stop. No you go. Come on, let’s all hit the gas and pray to the Lord that no one gets hit. I love being courteous and have no pressure to require myself to go first or last every time, but communication in this sector stinks, and then sometimes you get the one-fingered salute that said that this little traffic dance was a definite fail.
- Hot coffee walking disease. This is also in relation to another malady of eating soup. Soup Sippers Syndrome. Either way, we’re talking hot liquids and sensitive skin. I can normally take a boiling bath, but there’s something about impending death of tastebuds that makes me approach these things with extreme caution. You know that dead skin top of the roof of your mouth flap hate that a hot piece of pizza will leave you with? That’s another reason I find myself trying to consume these foods without ever letting them touch the walls of my mouth – impossible yes? but somehow I think they will all taste better at piping hot. or I’m impatient. Either or.
- Pre-Party Narcolepsy. I’ve gotten everything for the party. I even finished early. I let some things be DIY, but I made sure to not over do it. I’m so excited that everyone is coming. So excited that I’m ready to face plant onto the couch, forget that I slept in, forget that I gave myself plenty of time, I’m so ready for a nap that a 737 could sweep through the living room right now and I wouldn’t wake up. I can’t wait to see my friends, let’s just hope my sleepiness doesn’t put them off!
Then suddenly it’s my turn. The irony of the icebreaker is that I learned absolutely nothing about anyone, because I was too busy freaking the hell out. All I can recall is charismatic people speaking about their accolades and setting the bar higher than my moist fingertips can grip. I’ll shakily stutter out my name, city of birth and a hobby, then spend the next hour upset because I have hobbies that I like way more than the one I mentioned, and now these people think my life revolves around playing fantasy football.