Name that neurosis!

My therapist has mentioned more than once that I have a “strong visual imagination.” (When he says “strong,” he means he’s quietly keeping one finger pretty near the button that makes the net come down on my side of the room, just in case.) Specifically, everything I see reminds me of something else, until the entire universe is so crammed with layers and echoes and memories that it’s a frickin’ miracle I can make it to the other side of the kitchen without emitting a memoir.

What’s my problem today? I can’t sit on the toilet without coming face to face with Roberto, the robot who will cut you.


Otherwise known as the exposed hinge where they swung on the cabinet door until it fell right off, just like I said it would.

Today I also discovered that our new AV doodad that makes the TV connect to the Wii and stuff is actually a long-suffering lactating mom:


Everybody wants a piece of her, poor thing. And what if she has an itch, eh? Or what if she needs to go to the bathroom? (Wait, not the bathroom! Roberto’s in there!)

And then of course we have this little problem: Every time I open up my iPad and it turns out I left the front camera on, I see this


and my first thought is, “Augh, that’s me!”

But that’s crazy talk. Another case of mistaken identity. In real life, I’m 26 years old tops, and I’m standing in a sunny kitchen, kneading bread dough while my children invent a song to help them remember their Latin declensions.

Ah, well. At least I haven’t cut anyone recently. But you may want to keep your finger near that button, just in case.