Counting the Stairs

Here’s the thing, the other day I was reading a young friend’s blog. You should also. It’s really good. Find it here. Anyway, I scrolled through a couple of posts and found one where Ivy admits that she compulsively counts stairs. Holy cow, I said. Me too. I can’t help it. I have been doing this for as long as I can remember. It was so nice to know that Ivy, a brilliant, talented writer and scholar also shares my obsession. I suppose that’s what it is—an obsessive-compulsive thing. Most stairs have thirteen risers. I find that interesting. I don’t know why, but I do. Hogwarts would have been great fun to count. This compulsion never gets in the way of my life and no one, until now, knows that I do this. I even count the same stairs—like the fire escape steps I use to get in and out of my apartment, every single time. Thirteen. Try it and see if I’m not right about the stairs in your life. But please, don’t stare.

1 comment:

Lois of said...

Uh oh, so sorry you missed your tour=(

I think I took my oldest ones many years that I made me sad because I realized my uncle sam had to year in those mines for a living for many years...YUCK. talk about job conditions!