guess who is a scaredy cat…

Who would have thought?  I am scared shitless of a number of things (too much to list) but these are the ‘big’ ones…

After the accident I am completely neurotic about driving, even more so when someone else is behind the wheel.

I am scared to death of death (really stupid I know, because it is one of life’s little certainties-I am convinced that Someone up there has a sick sense of humour).

I am scared of swiming in the ocean, especially in Vishoek (but I prefer to think of this fear not as a fear but rather that common sense is prevailing-the shark stays out of our swimmingpool and it is just good manners  on my side to extend him the same courtesy-You can tell that I have thought this through quite often?)

I am scared that something is going to happen to my family, or someone I love-another of those idiosyncracies you pick up when you lose loved ones.

I am scared of bugs, or rather anything that has more than 4 legs, especially if they happen to have wings too, but eight legs is fine…

And now after my second trip to the Deparment of Motor Vehicles for the day (no that is not what I am afraid of-but I am getting there)….Bergies.

I was happily ambling along, mentally preparing my argument to the happless teller behind the counter as to why my boss could not come and get the duplication registration documents for the trialer that he can barely remember owning since it broke probably before I was born, and that he needs this document so that we can scrap the damn thing before he has to dip into his children’s college funds in order to pay the back license fees.

I was so much in my head that I only noticed that a Bergie had grabbed me when I was yanked of course and dragged halfway back up the street that I had just crossed.  While I am typing this I can physically feel the spot where he touched me burn as if I am on fire, this is after I washed my arm extensively and I cannot seem to stop shuddering.  He must have been on something because his eyes was completely out of focus.  My first thought was “oh my word, so this is what it is like when you get robbed” and I must admit that  I screamed like a banshee at him to let me go.  He didn’t take anything or indeed attempt to take anything, he just grabbed me, for no reason at all.  He grabbed me with such force that my arm is actually turning blue, not a big spot, but blue none the less *shudder*…

So please excuse me while I go and find something to scrub my arm with, I am thinking caustic soda and a pine cone….

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