i'm a freaking genius

It's true, you know.  Well, maybe not the "genius" part - that's certainly debatable.  But the modifier is completely accurate.  And never more so than when I leave home for a few days.

I'm a basket-case most of the time already, but going away never fails to amplify my numerous anxieties and neuroses.  I'm not afraid to fly or anything.  That would be just silly; everyone knows air travel is perfectly safe.  No, my fears are more grounded - so to speak - in reality.  Namely, the reality that my apartment is likely to become engulfed in my absence in a blue inferno because I left the stove on.

When I went on vacation last fall, I hoofed it with my luggage the twelve blocks or so down to the Metro, but I arrived just as a train was leaving.  I waited on the platform for about ten minutes before becoming impatient and leaving the station to catch a cab instead.  But here's the thing - I also told the driver that I forgot something and had him swing by my apartment just so I could look around the place one last time.  I'm not especially proud of that little anecdote, and I had intended to compose a self-depricating post to that effect before the trip took a drastic turn for the worse.  On my way to Shanghai a few years, I made pointless phone calls from the airport after checking my bag until there was not enough time to get home and back without running the risk of missing my flight.  I am, in short, a mess.

Thankfully, my anxiety is usually short-lived.  I know, academically, that I locked the door and didn't leave the water running, and usually I have forgotten to be nervous by the time the flight attendants roll the drink cart down the aisle.  Just getting out the door is the hard part.  Except for today.  Because today I had a brilliant idea.  As I tossed my camera into my carry-on bag just in case I wanted it here in the fly-over states (I know, I know.  Why would I?  What could possibly be worth documenting in this God-forsaken wasteland?), it occurred to me I could take pictures of all those things I normally worry about.  If I began quietly to freak out, all I needed to do was review those snapshots.  And of course, the mere knowledge that such evidence existed was sufficient to prevent my OCD from flaring up in the first place.  Here, then, is a brief glimpse into my tortured psyche.  And, to a lesser extent, my apartment.

easy bake

The stove is the big one.  In my defense, regarding that trip to China - I actually did discover the morning that I left that I had inadvertantly left the oven on while I took a brief nap.  Theoretically, that should have eased my mind some since I explicitly remembered turning it off.  No dice.

beaux arts ball

My neighbors below won't be experiencing flooding from the kitchen upstairs.

99 & 44/100

Or the bathroom.

bicycle rack built for two

There's normally another bike hanging from the upper rack, but if I'm not there, there is no doubt in my mind that the steel brackets would finally shear off and my heavy mountain bike would crash through the floor into the unsuspecting apartment below.  No doubt.

the fool

When I don't have anything else to wonder about, I wonder if I left the refrigerator (and freezer, natch) hanging open.  In my better moments, I wonder why this would even concern me.

what knockers

And I am finally out the door.  I know there's no way to tell from the picture if the door is locked, but at least I can see that it is closed.  Besides, my neighbor poked his head into the hallway as I was jiggling the doorknob.  He knows it's locked, even if I have my doubts.