I’ve also been pretty OCD with numbers. I like 3 and most multiples of 3 and I absolutely can not stand the number 4 (accept in 24, because it’s 8 x 3). It used to be so bad that if there was something I wanted to buy, and it came in a set of 4, I wouldn’t buy it, or I’d purposely lose (throw away) one, so that I would be left with 3.
Many people might not know, but I have always been a little OCD. It has faded away over time, especially over the past few years, but it’s taken some effort to get here.
I’ve always liked (maybe even needed) balance. Whenever I accidentally touched something with my right hand, I’d have to touch it with my left hand too. Or if I kicked my left toe into a chair and it hurt, I’d have to do it with my right toe to get the same amount of pain. Getting up from the sofa and walking around the table to get something, I’d make it a point to walk around the other side of the table to get back to the sofa. And if I didn’t, I’d get up and walk around and back on the opposite side so that I would have passed both sides the equal amount of times.
Although I can’t fully confirm why multiples of 3 appeal to me so much, I believe that it’s partially due to the fact that I was born on the 18th of September. Must have set in without me realizing it because I can’t remember far back enough to a time when I didn’t think 1809 was a very balance, pretty number.
Over time, I forced myself to stop being so OCD about touching and walking around things. I’d purposely touch an object with one hand then sit still and force myself not to do anything with the other, despite how hard it was. And while I don’t think I have issues in buying things in fours now, my favouritism towards certain numbers has stuck.
I wouldn’t have thought about it if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m turning 24 this year. The biggest milestones in life (I feel) have always somehow been coordinated with the numbers I like. At 18, it was freedom from school. At 21, it was being completely legal and not having to worry about parental consent. And I always thought I’d get married at 24. My mum did it at that age, and I guess I grew up thinking that was the time for it to happen.
Now that I’m turning 24 this year and I’m nowhere near marriage, it’s made me reevaluate myself and think about the future. I don’t think I’ve given much thought to what I’d do with the rest of my life (after turning 24) if I didn’t already have a husband and soon-to-be family to dedicate myself to. It’s definitely a little scary because I feel like 24 is the cut of point for stupidity and I should be smart enough to at least make proper decisions (most of the time) by the end of this year.
Maybe the world ending in 2012 isn’t such a bad thing. I’ve never hated the idea of it. In fact if it does happen, I would probably embrace it with open arms. But then again, the logical side of me fully doubts the possibility of an Apocalypse. I guess I’ll just have to try my hardest to get things right and then hope for the best.
By this time next year, I would have already passed the next milestone and I guess I’ll know how I feel about life after 24 then. Not sure if I’m looking forward to or dreading that day, but bring it on!