I love numbers. Not in a crazy way — I’m not into numerology -YUK.
But in a totally fun way. I love patterns. I love seeing patterns in numbers.
The other day I was ‘randomly’ [I don’t believe that for a minute!] picked [again] for a drug-alcohol screening for my part-time bus driving job. The gal who did the testing this time was the daughter of the usual lady, who I might add, I’ve gotten to know quite well, because it’s totally not random!
She was into patterns too. She loved the pattern in my social.  She loved the pattern in my phone.  Loved my P O Box. 
[Seriously, does the period go inside or outside the bracket?]
So I [went out on a limb, thinking I might have just found someone to connect with . . .] told her I count my levis going into the washer and then coming out of the washer. She’s like,”Really?” [I thought I heard something in her voice.]
No. No connection [what-so-ever.]
So, then, to just make polite conversation [since we were going to be stuck together for the next hour+ while I tried hard to produce a specimen with my diagnosable “shy bladder,” I told her how I adore numbers on the clock that are sequential. Ex. 12:34 and 11:11. Wow. Kind of a chill went through the room, making it even harder for me to want to produce.
An hour and fifteen minutes later I was able to give the required 2 ounces [this after drinking a quart and a half of lukewarm water, giving myself ultra pain in my stomach and kidneys, and having to p** for the next 12 hours.]
We politely said goodbye and I said to say hello to her mother. I turned around to watch her as she walked away and I think she was shaking her head and rolling her eyes just a little bit. Seriously?
I started this out about me liking numbers because I just got off the scale and I really like this number!!!!