Knowing my luck, I'll buy a lottery ticket, and then win the jackpot, and then, after my first check gets cashed, I'll get struck by lightening and die before I ever have a chance to spend a dime. And then Harry will get all the money, which is fine, I want him to have it because he'll use it to make sure the kids are set for life. But then he'll meet some cheap, gold-digging floozie and she will use her stupid, sneaky, gold-digging woman charms to convince Harry to marry her, and she'll be the evil stepmother that my kids read about when they were little in all those fairy tales and she'll steal all the money left to Harry that he would have used for the kids, and they'll all be miserable and have terrible lives. All because Harry went and married some stupid, selfish bimbo.
I CAN'T BELIEVE HE WOULD GO AND MARRY SOME BIMBO AND LET HER HAVE ALL MY MONEY! AND I'M NOT EVEN DEAD YET!!! THAT BASTARD!
And then the logic kicks back in for a second and I realize that was a totally random, completely ridiculous thought. BUT, because I had that thought, I'm somehow convinced that if I buy a ticket, all of that might actually happen. So I decide I can't buy a lottery ticket because I don't want to die and leave my kids to be miserable for the rest of their lives. Harry, however, I don't feel so bad for because he's the one that was stupid enough to marry a dumb, gold digging, bimbo. And then, finally, real logic makes its way back into my brain. And I realize how silly that whole train of thought was. Because even if I do buy a ticket, I'm never going to win the lottery. So I bought a ticket. And, thankfully, I didn't win.
That kind of thought process happens more often than I care to admit. But, like I said, it's pretty harmless so no big deal. I'm getting better at realizing how crazy my thoughts are in those cases, so I feel pretty confident that no real damage will be done to anyone else. However, there are times where my neurotic paranoia can be kind of dangerous for other people. Fortunately, I have Harry around to tell me that it's not them, it's me.
We just came back from a fun little weekend getaway in the mountains. Very near Nature (thankfully we stayed in the filtered, concrete-laden, busy tourist area and never ventured out into the gross wilderness where all the insect-infested animals live), but far enough away that I could appreciate it from within my air conditioned hotel room. The road trip there was fun and we stopped at goofy places along the way and generally had a great time. On our way back home though, we stopped at a gas station/mega mart and decided to get some snacks for the trip back. I was looking for a specific candy bar and was lamenting how no one seems to carry it anymore when out of nowhere some stranger (i.e. Murderer) started talking. Directly to me.
"You know you can get those down the street at the other gas station. I seen them there all the time. You know what place I'm talkin' 'bout? It's right off the main drag, near the mountains."
I quickly stepped back closer to Harry, while maintaining eye contact with the Murderer (because if you don't, you're more likely to die), and just nodded my head and mumbled "Great, thanks," then I turned and went down the next aisle. I was looking for Mace. Harry saw me intently perusing the items in that aisle and asked me what I was looking for. I told him I was looking for something to keep the Murderer at bay should he get any strange ideas about following us because clearly he had bad intentions. Harry stared blankly at me for a minute, then sudden realization washed over him.
"Uh, you know he was just being friendly, right? People do that here. They talk to people they don't know. Because. They're. Friendly. And. Like. To. Be. Helpful. Put the pepper spray down, we're not buying it."
It's a good thing I have this man in my life. Although between you and I, I'm not entirely convinced we didn't narrowly escape a terrible, painful death. See what buying lottery tickets gets you? Near death experiences.