I May Seem A Bit Weird To Others

In my old job, I did not have my own office.  We were in cubicle land, and if we were on a campus, we were in a conference room or a broom closet or someplace where there was room to work. So when I found out that I would have my own office, I thought I had died.  When I found out that my office would have a door, with a lock?  Total Nerdvana for me.

I have my action figures on the shelves.  I have my Yoda clock.  I have my pictures on the wall.  I can put my feet up, or listen to music, or cuss a blue streak, and there is not a single person to hear me and get annoyed or offended.  I don't really do much of that any more, of course. Except maybe take off my shoes, and occasionally play with my action figures when I'm on hold.   I don't even shut my door most days.

But if I did want to be my weird self, it would be cool.  That's the whole point.

This morning I decided that I wanted some gummi bears.  I can eat those now, and they're delicious.  There was only the regular sized bag in the cabinet.  I grabbed it anyway, because gummi bears.  I sat at my desk, pleasantly reading emails and sorting gummi bears by colors.  Because that's what I do with gummi bears.  I separate them by colors and then I eat them in a specific order.  Generally the greens and the reds get eaten last.  I'd finished the white gummi bear pile and the orange gummi bear pile.  I was making my way through the yellow gummi bear pile while eyeing the green gummi bears.

And that's when I had a visitor.

One of the new special education teachers wanted to ask me about a student, and they entered the room to find me sitting in front of piles of gummi bears.  I had a moment to think about me from his point of view, about how it must look, this professional woman with all these years of experience, sitting there essentially playing with her food.  I thought maybe I would feel embarrassed about that.  I used to feel awkward about everything, once upon a time.  I still felt awkward, but they were gummi bears.  Gummi bears get a pass.

"Haha! You caught me!" I laughed.  "I'm a weirdo who sorts her candy by color. Hope that doesn't freak you out!"

Luckily, that did not freak him out, and we had a very productive conversation while I eyed the remaining gummi bears.  They were beckoning me with their fructose-y goodness, but I waited until my visitor had had his questions answered and was on his way.  Then I descended upon the remaining piles of gummi bears like a Dyson.

I earned it.

The A-List: Favorite Candy

I confess that I have a serious sweet tooth.  Okay, I have at least thirty sweet teeth.  I try not to succumb to the siren's call of the candy aisle on too many occasions, but my feet will travel there, drawn by the various songs of sweetness that emanate from those bags sitting on the shelf.  It's like some sort of vortex exists around the candy aisle. Any unsuspecting person who passes too close is instantly sucked in, only to be deposited at the cash register with a cart full of candy before they even know what happened. Or is that just me?  Anyway, here's my fab five of deliciousness, at least until I change my mind. 

1.  Gummi bears.  Not just ANY gummi bears.  No.  Haribo gummi bears.  I chew on these, and I'm an eight-year-old kid in Germany again, stuffing my face with all the green bears.  Yes, I sort the bears by color for devouring purposes, and the green ones get it first.  That may be weird to some of you, but I will say that I am not the only one who separates her gummi bears by color.  I love these gummi bears so much that I will NOT share any of my green bears with my four-year-old son.  He can have the red ones, but no greens!  I will pay for his gummi-bear related therapy later, after I finish my green bears. 

Source: sakura-hotel-ikebukuro.com via Tina on Pinterest

2.  Almond Joy bars   I am the only person in my family who likes coconut.  That means that I can purchase a bag of those little Almond Joy bars, safe in the knowledge that not one bar will disappear until I am ready to savor it.  The coconut with the milk chocolate tastes the best, and that almond is the nuts on top of the sundae.  I like the texture of the coconut mixed with the chocolate on my tongue.  I haven't bought any of these in awhile, because I will sit down and eat the entire bag before I even think about it, and each of those little bars has 40,000 calories in it.  Well, maybe not that much.  Maybe only 20,000. 

3.  Bit O'Honey  I have no idea why I love this stuff, but I do.  These are waxy, chewy pieces of goodness, and I don't even care if there's any actual honey in them.  They're sort of like eating a Sugar Daddy, which was pure caramel. This candy sticks to your teeth, and every crown and filling in my mouth is at risk every time I eat a piece, but there I am, chewing down the whole bag.  Thank goodness the bags are small!

Source: en.wikipedia.org via Tina on Pinterest

4.  Milky Way bars  I love me some caramel.  It is completely awesome.  Milky Ways are full of caramel AND chocolate-y goodness.  It's heavenly.  Snickers has too many peanuts, and their texture seems to take away from the caramel and chocolate, at least in my opinion.  Three Musketeers bars just tease you with fluffy chocolate without delivering any caramel wonders.  Milky Way gets the balance right, and I can get my fix.  I can even stop after one of those little bites!  If that's the only bar available, that is.  Again, if someone leaves a bag of those lying about, it's going to disappear. 

5.  Twizzlers   Not the Red Vines, but the Twizzlers.  Through some random form of operant conditioning, Twizzlers are something I crave while watching movies.  If we are in the theater, I want some of those red licorice-type candy stems.  You'd think that I would be economical, and purchase some at another place before I hit the theater.  You would be wrong.  In my efforts to avoid buying candy, I try to skip buying Twizzlers.  And then, when I am in line to buy popcorn, the packages of Twizzlers taunt me, waving their little red tentacles at me until I grab a package.  It's shameful, I know. 

What sort of candy do you like?  Please share, as it will give me a vicarious thrill!

***Mamakat had this as one of her prompts last week, but I had already planned this one for today. 

Sometimes I Have Trouble Sharing

I love gummi bears. Not just ANY gummi bears, but the Haribo gummi bears that are made in Germany. Whenever I see them, I buy them. Those bears are edible reminders of happier moments in my childhood. I treasure them, and eat only a handful at a time, so as to savor them.

I sort the bears by color, of course. I have to eat them in a certain order. Because I like the green ones the best, I eat the white ones first so as to get them out of the way. Then the beloved green ones, the red ones, the orange, and I finish with the yellow. I have no idea why I like the green ones the best; that is a memory deeply submerged in my subconscious. It does not diminish my enjoyment.

When I got married, I worried that my husband would consider my gummi bears to be community property. When he informed me that he ONLY liked the orange gummi bears, I knew we were meant to last. After sorting, I could part with the orange ones. I would even occasionally share some of the yellow ones with our yellow Lab Sandy. No problem sharing the yellows. Now, my son feels ready to experience the joy of gummi bears. Except that I don't want to share.

That's right--I don't want to share my gummi bears with my only son. My instinctive reaction is to hog the bears. I know it is childish. I have to acknowledge my feelings, however. I feel a bit guilty about not sharing, since we teach Zane that sharing with others is very important. I have my reasons for not wanting to share.

The boy doesn't follow the rules! He eats any old gummi bear that he happens to grab! No sorting! No ordering of colors! The horror!

Maybe he is too young for gummi bears. Maybe he hasn't acquired the concept of sorting by categories. He's only three. They're only gummi bears, right? That's what I have been telling myself, in the hopes that I can get over my reluctance.
But I have a feeling that my wanting to hog the bears is deep-rooted within my psyche. I may need therapy to begin to let go of the bears, but where the heck do you find a therapist specializing in gummi bears?