Slightly disturbing realization

It almost disturbed me the other day to realize that I am Harold Crick in real life. Perhaps you remember the character, from the movie Stranger Than Fiction? He saw things in the world arranged by time, percentage, number, instead of just experiencing life, and didn't even try at it; he just noticed those sorts of things.

I've noticed before that I unconsciously keep track of the count and placement of random things, but it was yesterday that what that meant hit me, as I realized that I knew exactly when to pull the cord on the bus so that I would be able to walk up to the door right as the bus slowed and stopped. That realization came simultaneously with the one that I also knew how many ads were being displayed above my head, whether there were more people on the right or left side of the bus, how many route maps were in the little drawer (and how apparently more people needed the 150 route than the 154), and how much time was left on the song on my iPod.

This strange acknowledgment of a strange neuroses followed me as I went to work, where I realized that I was always keeping track of exactly how many boxes of books were waiting at my station, the approximate amount of books in each one, how long that would take me to process, and therefore when I would need to get more (taking breaks into account). And this while listening to an audiobook, where I mentally calculate with the start of each track when I should probably stop the book to finish up the workday at the end of a track. When I open a bag of fruit snacks, the first thing I do is mentally if not physically sort them by color, and then eat the right ones so that each color has the same number, and then I eat them in order after that. I don't even think about this, not consciously. It just happens. And this doesn't even go into the way that I know every inch of space, wherever I'm at, and exactly how I need everything arranged at any given moment to take the most advantage of it—even if that means adjusting things in half-inches.

It's a really, really good thing, I realize now, that God gave me an easy-going temperament along with these neuroses. Through no real effort of my own, I'm able to brush off most irritations in life, partly because they're rarely strong to begin with. I like and love things far more often than I am annoyed, and thinking of something enjoyable will easily wipe away the memory of an annoyance. Which is good for my sanity, and for the sanity of others, when those little irritations can be as simple as noticing that the soap dispensers in the public restroom aren't equally full...

I am Harold Crick.