We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers.
This is one of those irrational fears that has been such a part of my life for so long that I forgot that it was in fact irrational. Partly because I probably realized that it was irrational decades ago and so never mentioned it to anyone, and no one has ever noticed me closing my eyes for what I think is a full minute, or turning away from a clock. No one has ever confronted me that my belief is deranged.
When I was little, I would be consumed by dread when I would see one minute change to the next — nowadays, I only remember that I have believed this every single time it happens. I try not to check my phone time, or fitbit time on my wrist, or even the bottom corner of my laptop, just in case I would see the minute flip to the next minute. It is beyond a habit at this point; it is my lifestyle.
I’m not sure what caused me to think that looking and catching it twice in a row meant that death was imminent, but whenever that happens, I practically hear a very dramatic bell tolling, tolling for me.
Since the fear is less pronounced now that I am older, I have found myself wondering if, as I age and become elderly, I will start looking at the clocks again. And I wonder if it will actually be the last thing I see before I conclude. I suppose only time will tell — but will anyone else know but me? I hope so, but what if only I see the time, give a weak chuckle, and then my lights go out without anyone noticing the clock? Oh no. I’ve made myself sad.