The Only Fear is Fear?

The worst thing about being a big scaredy cat is that any old thing is capable of giving me the heeby jeebies (as I believe they are called)

Take a fruit fly trap, for example, as I am not a fruit fly this shouldn’t really be something which bothers me. It ‘s those homo sapien traps I need to look out for. However, when I see these things a shiver run downs my spine and I think of what would happen if I got my head caught in one. Oh, hang on, is that not Venus fly traps I am thinking about? I suppose the idea is the same though, isn’t it?

Fluorescent paint doesn’t seem like a big deal, does it? Sadly I am colour blind and buying any sort of paint is a harrowing ordeal for me. I once painted a bedroom two completely different colours without even realising that it wasn’t the same tone on all of the walls. Thankfully I am now no longer allowed to buy colourful things on my own so that takes a lot of the pressure off me.

I also have an irrational fear of loft conversions. I once lived in Belfast for a few months and shared a house with a few work colleagues. As a kid I had always longed for a roof in the attic and now was my chance to live out the dream. The only problem was that as a fully grown adult I couldn’t stand up straight in my new bedroom without cracking my head off the roof. This was fine the first few dozen times but after that it began to get a bit tiresome if I am being honest.

Ikea kitchens have been known to make me break out in a sweat as well. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the quality furniture supplied by these Swedish geniuses. The problem is that I once got trapped in one of their stores and spent ages trying to get out. They seem to set them up so that once you are in there is no easy way to get out, presumably on the basis that you will lose the will to live and just buy a blooming table or bed so that they will show you where the exit is. Once I got to the door I bought a plate of meatballs to get over the trauma so it worked out well in the end.