Since 2014, every year, I have been doing an ‘I’m Weird Because‘ post on the blog. If you have been with me for a few years, then you know what I’m talking about. It’s grown into a sort of a tradition for the blog. The first time I wrote it was back in 2014. I enjoyed it so much that every year I come back to doing it. It feels good. It does. So, here I am again.

As I had written last year, this is a post where I talk about my pet peeves, a blog post with a glimpse into the not-so-perfect person that is me. You could say it’s a let-your-hair-down kind of post, something that reminds me of the fun old days of blogging. It is a post where I talk about all that makes me unique, my idiosyncrasies and everything without which I wouldn’t be me. Perhaps, it is also a strange way to self-love.

So, what is it that still makes me weird? Well, let me tell you without wasting any more of your time.

I’m Weird Because

I can have bread toast for breakfast every single day. No, not because I love it but because I’m too lazy to make something new every day.

I have found the perfect way to make pancakes, (hint: betty crocker mix!), and they have become my guilty pleasure. Every time M asks for it, I pretend to grumble but end up making extra for myself!

Given that I read so much, I admit it’s pretty weird that I cannot remember the names once I have read the book.

I like having my meals watching something on the television. It’s my way of relaxing. At work before the pandemic, I loved the alone time during lunch when I could watch what I want while eating. Thank You, OTT! But if anyone would walk up to me then and strike up a conversation, I would keep wondering, ‘when will this person leave me alone!‘. 

That brings me to the fact that I’m an introvert, and I like my alone time and protect it like it’s my baby.

I love wearing socks and hope the weather cooperates. Something about socks makes everything cosy and warm. It reminds me of my childhood in Shillong, especially the winters, and I suppose socks are my way of trying to recreate a part of that.

I cannot go to sleep without reading. If I don’t get a chance to read, I feel the day is incomplete.

I don’t go anywhere without taking my books with me. While some people have cosmetics in their bags, I have books. Always.

I dislike buying or wearing gold jewellery. I just don’t get the charm.

I cannot comprehend how our mothers have cooked for us every day for decades and not started abhorring us already.

I haven’t slept without being kicked ever since I had M, but I also cannot sleep properly anymore when she is not near me. The perils of cosleeping!

I still don’t know how to drive because I’m so scared I’ll run over someone. And trust me, I’ll do abysmally in jail. But never say never, for learning to drive, not being locked up in prison!

I break the monotony of lockdown by wearing lipstick at home.

I’m the most awkward mother you’ll find in a playground. Conversations are so not my strong suit. Thank God! M hasn’t taken after me.

The best part of the day is when my family is tucked in after dinner because I get uninterrupted time to read.

The only way I get through household chores is if I can listen to books on Audible. Otherwise, the cranky me comes to the foreground.

I’m very conscious about my double chin. It is one of those things that refuse to leave my subconscious. So much for accepting myself how I am, right? But someone once commented on it, and it stuck. I don’t walk up to anyone and comment negatively on their looks ever. But I do realise how it affects someone. For someone who has lived with gapped teeth, it’s funny how a comment about my double chin has stuck in my brain. Sometimes I wish I had replied to her by saying something equally uncalled for, but would that have made me feel better?

I cringe when someone thinks doing dance fitness is comparable to being a trained dancer. It takes a lot of willpower to not say something back to them, to educate them on the nuances of dance.

I find all these elaborate wedding functions these days, with money being spent left, right and centre, extremely obnoxious. Instead of being a union of two souls, it feels like a cheap, not to mention ridiculous tactic for some Instagram likes.

I know I should, but I simply cannot forgive someone who hurts me even once.

I’ve recently discovered baklava, and I cannot get enough of it.

I don’t drink tea in the evening because I don’t like washing the teapot! If there were a disposable teapot, I wouldn’t mind having tea at home every evening.

I am not a fan of fruits, but I have to pretend to like them to entice M into having fruits instead of making my usual not-a-fruit-lover face.

I’m going to self-publish my book, a world war II historical fiction set in England and France, that I have written. Surely, that is the weirdest thing I’m going to do this year. 

Well, that’s all for this year, I suppose. Tell me, are you a little weird too?