She's a weirdo.

We all have them, or at least I hope we all do otherwise it'll just be me there again, riddled with eccentricities and vague OCD rituals.

I'll be the first to admit to possessing many of these shall we say...quirks.  I like that word.  I can be quirky.

* In the cutlery drawer things simply must be arranged in the order of knives, forks then spoons.  If someone dares to stray from this, I can't bare it, I have to rearrange them.

* Before I finally go to sleep, I have to have a wee.  Even if I only went ten minutes ago, I cannot settle unless it immediately precedes sleep.

* Another night time one, I'm rather sensing a theme here, before I close my eyes I have to look at the clock and know the time.  If I can't go to sleep instantly I have to look again.

*Before I go to sleep, I say this thing in my head.  I'm convinced if I don't say it something bad will happen to someone I love.  Sometimes I have to say it three times or five times.

* I can't sleep without my transvestite pink rabbit that I've had since I was born.  It's been all over the world.  I've even been known to rummage around in a blind panic in the middle of the night to find him.

* I'm all about the numbers 3 and 5.  There's certain things I have to do 3 times or five times or sometimes three times in groups of five or five times in groups of three.

* I can't drink out of a glass at home unless I rinse it first, usually three or five times.  Sometimes three lots of five or even five lots of three.  Ditto with rinsing my mouth after brushing my teeth, it has to be three mouthfuls of water or five or three lots of five or five lots of three.

* I can't wear any shoes at all without socks or tights on or bare anything between my toes.

* The sound of metal in glass such as a metal fork whisking in a pyrex bowl makes me want to vomit.  Ditto with chewing wool and even the mere thought of foil near teeth.

* I can't bare to touch cloths.  When cleaning it has to be disposible antibacterial wipes or else rubber gloves and disposing of the sponge/cloth afterwards.  The thought of touching a wet dishcloth actually makes me shudder and want to vomit.

* If I wash any pots, usually The Husbands job, I usually wash them under a running tap as I feel sick at the thought of plunging my hand into the washing up bowl.

There's more yet I think this is enough exposure to my quirks for one day.

So, what are your little nuances?