The March Hare

This morning I started crying while blow-drying my hair. Why? I don't know. Quickly, I tried to come up with a good reason. It's... raining outside. My hair doesn't look good. I, umm... nope. There was no good reason for it at all. So I decided that it was all due to low self-esteem and went on with my day.

Yesterday, I resisted taking a bath. I made it until one o'clock in the afternoon, and then I really ran out of things that could be done with nest-like hair and pajamas. Why didn't I want to take a bath? I'm not six years old anymore, so what was bothering me about the very idea of ceasing to wander through my house with dirty hair and slippers on? I couldn't figure it out and so I had to go take a bath anyway.

A few years ago, I was driving home from work, listeneing to All Things Considered, everything pretty much normal. Then I realized that I was saying the words 'spotted eggs' over and over again in a Sean Connery voice. 'Shpotted Aigs.' The hell! That's crazy! Why was I doing this?

What bothers me is that there is no train of thought leading up to these events. They just... happen. Like the time I got so angry for no reason that I actually lost my vision for a few seconds. Or just now, when I got dressed and ended up looking like Mobile's version of Bjork. (It's good on Bjork, just not quite right for the rest of us.) In Nobokov's 'Look at the Harlequins!' he warns all of his wives and lovers that he has the potential to become insane because of his inability to reverse a mental map. I think my warning signs are far more prominent, but I have told no one. Until now.

So, tell me, is this normal, or do I need some help?