I'd rather have a bottle in front of me...

At one point in time I had a strong desire to cut off my left shoulder. Not my arm, just the shoulder, and perhaps a bit of my back while I was at it. At the time, the frustration at the pain and injury that I felt in my back was adequate justification for amputating the thing altogether. And then I got thinking...

I would need a very sharp knife. Everything we had at home at the time was much too dull. It would need to be sterilized, but more importantly, I would be opening up a huge wound that would probably bleed a lot, and I was never quite sure how I would be able to stop myself from bleeding out. I was also not sure how I would prevent the whole thing from becoming infected.

Then there was the question as to who would do it. In our wonderful public healthcare system, they tend not to perform elective surgeries, especially ones that are completely unnecessary, because they waste the taxpayer's money. I also doubt that any respectable surgeon would willingly cut through all those muscles and render my arm half useless without a good reason.

My problem? I think too much about things.

I seem to remember explaining this to someone over a caramel macchiato at Starbucks once, a couple of years ago. I was completely frank and nonchalant, and the person across from me was incredulous. "You're not serious, are you?" he asked, and I said that I wasn't. But that wasn't exactly true. I was completely serious at the time, but it's not always a good idea to let people know that.

I look as normal and conservative as fuck, but my mind is anything but. I don't often say what I'm thinking because I get so many strange looks. The stuff that comes out of my brain is often completely different from what people expect of me, so I'm better off saying nothing. Otherwise I have to explain too many things and no one ever completely takes me seriously. It's not even frustrating anymore, I'm so used to it.

I was thinking earlier this evening that my family would make the perfect candidates for a reality TV show. We'd be just like the Osbornes, only funny, especially because no subject is taboo at the dinner table and when someone pokes me in the side I scream. Quite literally, it would be hours of entertainment because we are so weird.

The cameras would catch us at our best, when we're debating the similarities between commercials for spark plugs and Trojan condoms, or when I just spontaneously decide to dance in parking lots. Or maybe when dad goes to switch over the laundry and pulls an impossible knot of bras out of the washer. Perhaps they would catch us talking to the cats as if they are rational, intelligent beings, or when I forget simple words for things and substitute ones that are much more vague and complicated:

"Can you please procure the liquid beverage for me?"

They would most likely have to bleep out half of everything that we said, but that's what they do with the Osbornes anyway so I don't see that as a problem.

I think we should do it. I mean, it's not like there isn't enough crap on the television already.

Sometimes I wonder if I could just amputate the weirdness out of my brain. I would never do that though. I would think too much about it first. That's the problem. I think too much.

Recommended reading: Indestructable