We all have those theories that are hard to prove, or that might sound crazy to some. But nonetheless, you're certain they're true. For example, Immortalkitten is certain that her cat knows when she's thinking of using her drawing tablet. Being insanely jealous of the silly square Kitten likes to pet, the cat will get in the way, sitting on her tablet while she's trying to use it... or settling in Kitten's lap before she even makes a move to get her drawing tablet.
Anyway, here are some interesting or weird theories of mine.
The ADHD Cloud
Imagine: it's after school. You have a bunch of really boring homework that you really don't want to do. You pull out the dreaded textbook, and you begin.
Except it isn't much of a beginning. Instantly, a cloud of Attention Deficit Disorder floats into the room and engulfs your head. Hmm, your pencil is getting dull. You ought to sharpen it. Also, you never realized how fascinating your cuticles were before. There's such interesting patterns in the wood grain of your desk. You think of funny things from earlier today, or last week, or ten years ago. You invent elaborate scenarios in your mind that could make a really good fantasy story.
And, oh look, it's been over thirty minutes and you've completed... two problems. And there's forty left to do. You really need to focus. You try hard to concentrate on the problems, focus on... Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O... And on this farm he had some boredom, E-I-E-I-O. With a yawn, yawn here, and a yawn, yawn there... Let's sing it as a round!
Three days pass, and you only have five problems done, but you've managed to invent a new elven culture, a species of winged dog, and some legends involving portals and dragons. Highly productive homework session, right?
Life is a Highway... With No Restrooms
Here's an interesting observation I've made while travelling: When you have to go to the bathroom, long empty stretches of nothingness become at least three times longer. You never saw so much scrub, dead grass, and farmland in all your life. Random off-roads that lead nowhere. Five thousand windmills.
And it's usually when you're a thousand miles from civilization that you first realize you have to go. And the nothingness just goes on, and on, and on... You're certain you've driven through half of California without seeing a single town or rest stop. Why...
Customers' Sixth Sense
You've been standing behind the counter for ages. There's been nary a customer. Tumbleweeds roll through the dining room. Dust settles on the tables and chairs.
Well, this seems as good a time as any to mop the floors. You're not likely to have much, if any, interruption. If it weren't for your co-workers in the kitchen, you would have forgotten what people look like by now.
You fill the bucket, then wheel it out to the dining room. You're just starting to mop when... where did those customers come from? There's been nobody for three days. Now, all of the sudden, there's a couple in their sixties, standing at the counter and looking up at the menu.
You quickly take their order, then return to your mopping. Splash, thwop, swish swish swish... You glance up, and there are three teenagers. Where are they coming from? You take their orders too, then stand there for a minute, wondering if there will be more. You look out the windows, but see no one approaching. That must be all, then. You no sooner wring out the mop and set it on the tile again when someone walks through the door.
Oh, come on! Surely this is no coincidence. Somewhere nearby, these customers are hiding, watching you on closed circuit television, and waiting for the moment when you start doing something. Standing behind the counter? Nope, not time yet. Trying to sweep, or mop, or take out the garbage? That's the time to come in and place an order!
Disappearing Houseflies
You just want to eat your meal in peace. You just want to watch your TV show in peace. You just want to do anything, anything at all, without this infernal fly zooming around, buzzing in your ear, trying to land on you and everything around you, getting in your face, and once even smacking you in the eye. It's everywhere. It will not leave. Nothing will make it go away.
Unless... You reach over and grab an old catalog. It's just the umpteenth 'this could be your last catalog' that sadly never is. You wish the stupid things would quit showing up in your mailbox. You roll up the junk mail, preparing yourself for battle.
...And then the fly is nowhere. You swear it ceased to exist, vanished in mid-air. You wait a few minutes, but see and hear no sign of it. You set the catalog down in frustration, and return to your book.
"BBBZZZZZZZ!!!"
"AUGH!!!"
You snatch up the catalog, but the fly, apparently operating under video game logic, despawns. You leap up from the couch and begin prowling around, searching for the stupid insect. Nothing. Annoyed, you flop down again. Slowly, suspiciously, you open your book. Slowly, suspiciously, you lower your eyes to the pages.
A black omen of frustration and germs whizzes past. It circles around, then dive-bombs your head. This really is the final straw. You snatch up the catalog and take a wild swing at it. Instantly, the fly is gone again.
Surely it isn't just your imagination, isn't just your deranged mind inventing conspiracy theories. The fly knows. It knows when you're armed and ready to kill it, and hides. It only shows its ugly face when you put down your weapon. This isn't even a regular flyswatter, with corpses of a thousand houseflies upon it. It's just a random catalog you got in the mail the other day. But somehow, the fly realizes that when it's in your hands, it is an instrument of death and you are to be avoided.
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