Paranoia, Paranoia, Everybody’s Coming to Get Me

I think a certain amount of paranoia in life is healthy. I do not have a healthy amount of paranoia. Once I went on a date and had been on a couple dates with this guy and on this particular date I was driving. He bent down in the passenger seat, probably to adjust a sock, tie his shoe, whatever, but I spent approximately a week certain that he’d implanted a listening device in my car and whenever I got really into singing along with Taylor Swift I’d get so nervous and embarrassed. Also I talk to myself a lot in the car and had been talking through how to end it with him and was like, “what if he’s listening to me practice breaking up with him?” Sometimes I’d just turn up the radio really loud to drown out the sound of my voice. You might think I’m being funny, but this is legit. This is so embarrassing and ridiculous that there is no possible way I could have made this up.

We only had one date after that and I’m still not convinced there was no listening device. Fortunately that car was totaled so this new car is fresh and free of bugs! Well, not all bugs. I recently saw an albino spider casually walking across my dashboard before climbing into the vents and I’d like to report that I was ridiculously more calm about that than I was about the thought of a bug that spies on you, unless that spider is a military-grade specially-bred mutant spider there to steal all of my secrets, in which case I hope it is venomous because I think I need to die. I work out so many serious personal issues alone in my car, going all the way back to stuff that happened in grade school and also all of the imaginary scenarios that are certain to one day not be imaginary that I have to rehearse for in advance. This spider has so much shit on me.

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