My personal brand of Crazy

One result of getting married, I’m finding, is that you have to explain yourself to your spouse a lot. I never thought I was the type of person who would need to do this. Turns out I was wrong.
Aside from the whole wasting-anything-hurts-my-soul thing, there's these:

I only microwave things in consecutive or repeating numbers, i.e. 3:21 or 4:56, or 1:11. I never punch in full or half minutes. Can I explain that? Not really.

The other night during scripture study, I was laughing and then crying with no real reason to do either. (Blaming it on the hormones…) It startled me, too, really. Such a range of emotion in such a short amount of time! It’s exhausting. Believe me.

Apparently, I slurp cold cereal. (And make squishing noises when I'm washing my hands, but that's not germane to this conversation.) It took Slice a long time to tell me this. First he told me I chomp on my spoon, which isn't true, but at least it brought us closer to the real problem. Months later, he told me the cold hard truth.
Then he explained that his greatest fear in life is that we will someday eat cold cereal in public - any company, really - and I will shame him into oblivion.
I just can't stand leaving anything on the spoon.
Now as you know, I really love warm weather. I especially love sitting on my deck in the sun, reading or sleeping, and working on my tan. (Soaking up sunshine, remember?) But when Slice asks me why I’m wearing a skirt to work and I say, “because I shaved my legs” –in all seriousness, because if I shaved my legs you bet they’ll be bare the next day –he gets this grin on his face. It’s a grin that says “I married the quirkiest woman in the universe.” And what do I say to that?

And finally,
You know those commercials where irrational people kick, bang, shake, and otherwise assault vending machines just to get their little drinks out? Or, say, Grandma’s chocolate-chocolate chip cookies?

Those people are so irrational.