The Letter D: Dana's Rules

Poor Jim. My husband calls them "my crazies"...the little things that make me who I am. I have irrational fears that create there "rules" in the house. He has been a gem when it comes to adapting to my insane reasons for doing things. Most everything is pretty harmless and I don't think they're completely insane, but when I tell people they think I'm a nut bag. So, here are some of my rules and reasons for them. Feel free to comment if you share any of these, or if  you think he should get his divorce papers ready because, chances are, they're only going to get worse:

Crazy Rule #1: All lights must be off in the house before bed, with the exception of those long florescent ones.
Reasoning: Any regular bulb that is near the ceiling has the potential to overheat. Overheating will cause the paint on the ceiling to get hot and create paint vapors. The paint vapors, when exposed to the heat long enough, will ignite causing a giant rolling ceiling carpet of fire killing us all before we have a chance to escape.
Reality: I know it's beyond stupid, but in my head all I see is that giant ball of fire!

                                        This is what happens when you sleep with the lights on...

Crazy Rule #2: Dirty dishes go in the right hand compartment of the sink
Reasoning: The left hand side is for getting glasses of water and I can't stand if the bottom of my glass touches a nasty-ass dirty dish. Or what if I want to drain pasta? I can't drain pasta over dirty dishes! The steam from the pasta water will take on the flavor of the rotting food, rise up, and impregnate my perfectly cooked pasta. Ew.
Reality: I truly believe that. I don't even care. You couldn't pay me to drain pasta over a cereal bowl. I'm gagging now.

                                              Hot old milk flavored elbow macaroni...barf!

Crazy Rule #3: Dusting is the Devil
Reasoning: Every time I dust, I sneeze. My eyes water, my nose runs, my mouth tastes like dirty house...it can't be good. I have tried dusting with a mask but the mask gets all steamy with my breath and it always ends up smelling like ass inside the mask. Then I gag, throw the mask away, and give up. Even if I brush my teeth before putting the mask on, it still smells like ass in no time. \
Side thought: Maybe I have halitosis? Could that be the root cause of the mask/ass issue?
Reality: I hate cleaning, so this shouldn't really surprise anyone that much, but I really don't dust. I prefer to wait until the dust gets big enough to roll itself on to the floor and then it gets vacuumed with the cat hair tumbleweed.

                           I bet you his mask smells like cotton candy inside...and possibly semen.

Crazy Rule #4: Stinkbugs in the house must die but not by me
Reasoning: When they fly they look and sound like wasps, therefore they BECOME wasps and must die. They can not be killed by me because I can't get close enough to one to kill it. If I get close to it, it morphs immediately into a wasp and will try to kill me (as all wasps are predestined to do)
Reality: I don't care if the entire bedroom smells like rotten dirt for days, they can not coexist in the same room with me.

                                     I almost punched my monitor after adding this picture.

I'm sure Jim can add about 100 more, but these were the first few that sprang to mind. Thank you to everyone who puts up with my crazies, I love you all for loving the whack-job that I am :)

                                             We're all a little crazy sometimes, aren't we?