Embarrassed By How Embarrassed I Get

I am way too self-conscious. 

When I saw that a neighbor’s house was being tented – in a tent with red and yellow circus stripes, no less – I admit that my first thought was, “Those poor people. Now, everyone knows they have bugs.”

Maybe there is something wrong with me, but then again, people were actually stopping their cars in front of the house to openly stare. C’mon, people, it’s not that big a deal. (Not that I should talk, since I took a picture.)

But I do think that my anxiety/self-consciousness level is set a wee bit high.

For example, although I am a complete goody two-shoes when it comes to driving – I have never received so much as a parking ticket, my registration sticker is never out of date, I always use my turn signals, I never parking in an ambiguous spot – I feel a little jolt when a police car shows up in my rearview mirror. (Yup, I am one of those people who slow down and won’t pass a patrol car.)

And when I go for my dental check-up, my biggest concern is to avoid the embarrassing event known around our house as “the hygiene lecture.” You know what happens: the hygienist, rooting around in there, clucks at the state of your gums, asks you if you ever floss, then hands you a mirror and proceeds to demonstrate, once again, how to brush your teeth properly. Mortifying.

In fact, I am currently dragging my feet on scheduling Lola the dog’s next grooming appointment because I know we are going to get a hygiene lecture about her. She is a complete mess. Not that she cares. She appears to relish her bad smells.

Maybe I need to learn to embrace my inner dog.