my little secret

Due to indiscretion on the part of others (actually, just one, who will remain anonymous), and my current reading of The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets,  I’ve been thinking about my own dirty little secrets lately.  Mostly, I prefer to think about those of others.  And by think about, I mean, elaborate on and share via blogging, email-forwarding, and good old-fashioned gossip.  Which is why I picked up this book – I thought it would be like Dr. Phil, but it really just makes me wish I had better secrets to delight over.

Anyways, in exchange for recently accumulated secrets, I was looking for some of my own to share.  But I could only think of one, which is not really scandelous, but brings me great guilt.

I am a closet long-range hypochondriac.  I have elements of the typical irrational fears, like thinking headaches are meningitis, cramps signs of ulcers or a bleeding stomach, and obsessive handwashing.  And yes, while my dislike of hugging and other contact with people is partly because I find it a weird, unnatural, and artificial expression of friendship, it is also partly because I just think other people are dirtier and germier than me.

In addition to these fears, I worry about various cancers, heart disease, adult on-set type II diabetes, and a host of other issues.  I worry about heart attacks until I remember that I have freakishly low blood pressure and then I start thinking about hypothyroidism. And it is this paranoia, rather than any desire to lose weight or true enjoyment of dark leafy greens, that drives my healthy lifestyle. Don’t get me wrong, I do, truly, enjoy broccoli and kale. It’s delicious. But of COURSE a cupcake is better. And yes, I get the runner’s high and appreciate being outside in the morning and having an energizing start to the day. But when it’s 50 degrees and there’s a windchill factor and fog, my bed is DEFINITELY better.

So, my confession to those of you I have preached to about jogging, fiber, flossing, and more. I have my inner sloth and glutton too. You can remind me of this the next time I feed you a Cafe-Gratitude-esque dinner or try to convince you that we can bond through jogging instead of shopping. Everyone should, however, continue to shower daily. There’s no flexibility on that.