Today the subject of our ramblings is…dun, dun, duuuuun…phobias!
However, since I spilled way too much personal ink last week talking about my peeves, this week I present things that aren’t real phobias but should be.
1) Tuberosis stinkophobia: Remember that one period in your life when you were working long hours and not cooking regular meals? Then came the fateful day you opened your pantry to a horrible smell. Yup, rotten potato. If you were really unlucky, when you picked it up, your finger squished into it. The thought that said tater might return makes you quiver and you root out (get it? root! ha!) every potato in your pantry in a timely fashion. You have a bad case of Tuberosis stinkophobia.
2) Agentus rejectophobia: This one is special for writers. It’s heralded by that queasy feeling you get right before you open the response to your latest query. The one that makes you pull the bowl of chocolates closer…just in case you need them. Oh yes, my friends, you suffer from rejectophobia.
3) Corpus maggophobia: A fear of small inching white worms. I spent nearly ten years practicing forensic anthropology and completely understand your irrational fear. Every time a call came in, I prayed for a case with dry bones. Please, oh please, not a case of extreme decomposition, for I suffer intensely from maggophobia. I mean pile-my-clothes-on-the-balcony-until-I-can-double-launder-them maggophobia. Want to see me jump? Throw a grain of rice at me.
4) Feline whizzophobia: A fear that your beloved kitty is no longer exclusively using its litter box and has developed a love of your shoe. Evidenced by strange sniffing behaviors on your part. (Feel free to substitute canine for feline if you’re a dog lover.)
5) Unsantarius portapottiphobia: I think this one is self-explanatory. Rustic camp sites? Nope. Can’t do it.
Bonus fake phobia that I didn’t make up but wish I had! Thank you, Gary Larson, creator of the Far Side for this one: Anatideaphobia: The fear that somewhere, somehow a duck is watching you. Read here of a girl, an epileptic female duck named Daisy who turned out to be a male, and the tragic tale of how it all went south.
Join me, friends. Comment below with your phobia that should be but isn’t.