I say the word “palindrome” out loud whenever I see one on a license plate. Speaking of license plates, I am almost always a wee bit pleased whenever I see a prime number on one.
After using the restroom at work and washing my hands, I routinely use exactly 4 paper towels to dry my hands and one more to open the restroom door with, for a total of 5. I am a fan of primes.
I am often silently horrified when I have to share an elevator with a person.
I get a little crazy whenever a flying insect buzzes in my ear, even when I’m in public, surrounded by other adults. I detest that sound. With a passion.
Phone calls from anyone except my mother fill me with dread.
While talking to family and friends, my inner narrarator analyzes almost everything the other person is saying, looking for errors, both factual and logical. I have to constantly remind myself that most people care more about their egos and their imagined position in their respective groups and less about facts or rationality.