It has been barely a month in my new duty station. Life has been pretty hectic. I haven’t managed to discover/rediscover any magical pearl in the sea of thoughts thus explaining the snail progress of this portal. I am stuck at work all day. This litany is exclusively affecting my personal productivity. Look at me complaining about my made up productive problems, like I was any productive before.I have still managed to get myself a decent space in one of the many pigeonholes this place has to offer. Settling down was not a headache thanks to one of my henchmen (haha) Mahesh (mental note to self: write about him sometime) who ensured everything went in order, right till the last detail.Being at work all day, my small crashpad was visited by one of my seniors in my absence who later came and told me that my room told him a lot about my personality, something that got to me very deeply. I instantly went home and wanted to examine what made him say that. Things seemed pretty normal there. That’s when the quirks came to me.
I guess I love compact spaces.
Give me a 2 foot cubicle; I will still choose to stand on a corner. Maybe it says that I love being protected in the shadows of the walls. I discovered this about myself on many occasions which involved me to take short trips to places. A part of me just refuses to completely unpack my stuff. I love keeping my things packed or in a particular corner of the house.
You will never find my toothbrush.
Okay I am embarrassed about this one. Except for washrooms with a separate cubicle for the toilet seat, I do not leave my toothbrush out for long. I wait frantically for my toothbrush to dry and then shove it quickly inside the toiletries kit. My OCD infested mind has a phobia where germs settled in the toilet will jump in excitement whenever someone will use the flush and fly straight into the wet bristles of my toothbrush. I don’t particularly appreciate the idea of someone else’s toothbrush French kissing mine either.
I love aromatherapy.
This is something I picked up from my sister. I love smells. Candles, vaporizers and every cousin related to incense sticks.
I had to Google this word. It describes someone who collects books but doesn’t read them. There was a time in my life when I couldn’t go to sleep without reading something. Anything. But now with the course of life keeping me on my toes I haven’t managed to read as much as I used to. I have promised myself to change this soon. Yet I religiously go through stuff online and bookstores across and promise myself to read more. I’ve got a ton of books that I haven’t managed to give time to.
Symmetry of life.
I am not a neat freak. I wouldn’t even qualify for the qualifiers of a neat freak. Yet I have some weird relationship with symmetry.
- I cannot stand shoes facing towards me. They need to look away like they were on a punishment.
- My razor has to be on a 45 degree angle at all times. It is the only way to ensure its longevity (in my head).
- I detest people who leave the bottle cap/ pens cap opened.
- Don’t even get me started on those who do not leave chairs back in their original places.
Our quirks define us. Mine insult me. My friends often say that the girl who ends up with me will find it amusingly annoying. Somewhere out there we all end up wanting to be with people who harvest qualities that accept us for who we are. Don’t we?