Why I fear Turkish Prisons


Little deviation from the norm today and yet part of my journey.  You'll see.

I am a Norwegian Worrier. Not warrior...worrier.  My daughter has done personality tests on me and I forget the name of the test, but I was a solid six, signifying that I tend to be hyper cautious in my life.

When I'm in a restaurant I need to sit facing the door. It probably stems back to my first marriage but anyway...it's the way I am.  Let me give you some examples of how bizarre my thought process can be.

I often joke about the size of a trunk and whether or not a body would fit in there, to the point my therapist daughter questioned me on this. My fear was that if I was ever abducted and they covered my mouth with duct tape (as I know many have wanted to do) I would certainly become carsick being bounced around in the trunk and then aspirate on my own vomit. Horrible way to die.

Then when one of the kids donated their hair to Locks of Love I explained why I've never done that. My logic was that if my hair was made into a wig for someone and they then committed . my DNA on that wig. That got a groan and an eyeroll from her.

My latest "worry" is that if I'm ever in a Turkish prison I know I'll die from malnutrition because I'm certain they would not pay for my special bariatric vitamins.

 


There's even signs I've seen like this in restaurants as a warning.

So I was safer as a fat person?  

Now you see why I worry about these things!

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