One of the selling points of our new house, was it’s completed attic. There is a floor up there so it can be used for storage, which is awesome for a pack rat like myself. After letting the boxes accumulate in the garage to the point where we can’t even park the car in there, I decided I should finally start putting stuff away. The problem is, attics creep the hell outta me. I keep telling myself that I’m being illogical, and there is no reason to be freaked out. It’s just a hot, cramped space for storage, that also happens to be dark and mysterious and potentially filled with creepy crawlies, imaginary and not-so-imaginary. The following is a run-down of the conversation I have with myself every time I have to go up the stairs:
Logical Me: Alrighty then, let’s get these Christmas decorations up in there. … Huh? Why is my heart starting to race? *Sigh* I know why. Wimpy Me, are you there?
Wimpy Me: You’re not really gonna go up there are you?
Logical Me: Of course I am, it’s just the attic.
Wimpy Me: Haven’t you seen the Grudge?!?
Logical Me: You’re being ridiculous. You don’t even believe in ghosts.
Wimpy Me: That’s just because I’ve never met one. And the Ghosthunters say that ghosts like to hide in areas that don’t have a lot of human activity, i.e. ATTICS!
Logical Me: Why do you even watch that show?
Wimpy Me: I like to debunk things? And Steve an Tango are amusing.
Logical Me: Uh huh, sure. Well, then look at this as a ghost hunt! We can go up there and catch ourselves a Casper.
Wimpy Me: Just because I said I had never met a ghost doesn’t mean I want to meet one!
Logical Me: Get your ass up those stairs!
Wimpy Me: *yelp!* Why isn’t there a way to turn on the light BEFORE sticking your head up into the inky blackness?
Logical Me: Turn on the light before the grudge chick has a chance to sneak up on ya.
Wimpy Me: You’re not helping!
Logical Me: *snicker* Now look. See? There’s nothing up here. Nowhere for anything to hide, even.
Wimpy Me: Oh, yeah? What about over there? I think I see something ducking down back there….
Logical Me: That’s like a two foot square space. Maybe a tiny squirrel ghost is hiding in there, protecting his ghostly nuts.
Wimpy Me: *shudder* Or a kid ghost. There is nothing creepier than a kid ghost. That creepy-ass giggle….
Logical Me: If it didn’t involve harming myself as well, I’d throw you down the stairs. Now go get another box.
All I’ve managed to do is toss a few boxes up through the opening. I think I may just wait until Alex gets home so he can just sit up there and keep me company. And if he makes fun of me half as much as I deserve to be made fun of, it will probably be embarrassing enough to make me finish the job.
on Jun 18th, 2009 at 2:35 pm
I was thinking about this the other day, actually. Logic and rationality. No matter how rational a person says they are, there are always going to be things they can’t “think their way out of.” Some things are hard-wired, others are cultural, but there’s always something. I’d love to think I can be rational about everything, but that just isn’t true.
For example, I couldn’t eat a cricket. It might be 100% nutritious, germ-free, and taste like chicken, but I could not physically eat it. Yeah, mind over matter and all, but it’s just gross, right? Rationally, there’s no reason for me not to be able to eat it, but I just.. can’t.
on Jun 18th, 2009 at 4:30 pm
I’m a big believer in mind-over-matter but I have to agree with Jim, some things you just can’t fake. And crickets would be one of those things. There is a lot of food in that category, actually, sad but true.
But I think if you at least put stock into the super abilities of your mind to get through things then that’s one step up from just giving in to whatever is wiggin you out.
Whenever my brain starts to freak out I usually try to think about programming or engineering. I always have one web project or some toy I’m trying to put together, so I just start thinking about that and it distracts me. Cold, hard problem solving.
on Jun 18th, 2009 at 4:31 pm
However, spooks, specters, and ghosts are the last things I worry about.
Even in a “haunted” prison:
http://www.morningtoast.com/2009/04/my-first-ghost-hunt/
on Jun 18th, 2009 at 4:39 pm
Don’t listen to Jim and Morning Toast. Don’t they know that, in lieu of a basement, attics are where the ax murderers and kiddie ghosts and Bart Simpson’s not-evil twin hang out? Sheesh. I feel the same way about basements. Given those feelings, I vote for making Alex be the attic-storage-putter-awayer.