There’s absolutely nothing new about the people I work with thinking I’m weird.

This is, after all, the place where, mid-conversation with someone, I reached into my trashcan, pulled out the remnants of a mangled cupcake, and proceeded to take a bite, without even realizing I was doing so.

And my trash-digging didn’t stop there (though my snacking from it did, I swear) — employees from all over the building are likely to catch me picking the recyclables out several times a day, to put in the bins that are scattered throughout the office.

My social anxiety doesn’t help either. Like when, a couple weeks ago, I found myself walking several paces behind another person down one of our painfully long hallways.

Feeling awkward about trailing him all the way to the lunchroom, I needlessly announced, “I’m not stalking you.”

Being a normal human, he chuckled politely and continued about his business.

Me being anything but, I now felt more conspicuous than ever.

“Say something!,” my brain screamed.

So I did.

Only what came out was a fake, cartoon snake whisper.

“I ssssswearrrrrrrr.”

Yep. That did the trick. Nothing strange here now.

The examples just go on and on.

Perhaps I should be thankful for these precedents, however, given that one of my new year’s resolutions has added yet another odd wrinkle to my workday routine.

In my quest to lose weight, I now require myself run stairs every time I visit the ladies room.

Up and down, up and down — my personal promise mandates I do this at least three times before returning to my desk.

The result is that, at least once an hour, I get up, disappear for several moments, and come back winded.

To say nothing of what the security footage must look like — there goes Katie again, running from whatever imaginary stalker keeps chasing her to and from the radio station bathrooms.

Not to mention the fact that no one else from the newspaper side of things ever seems to go up there.

The other day, someone finally asked me what the heck it was I was doing. Turns out, they’d seen me come and go a couple times.

“Oh, I have to run on the steps a bunch before I can pee,” I said, before turning the corner into my
department.

Then realizing that really wasn’t an explanation at all.

Immediately, I started to go back, to attempt to make it clearer.

But then I worried that doing so would just make it worse — given that it would still be me talking.

And so I decided to leave it, figuring they’d probably just forget. Either that, or simply chalk it up to one more reason why ignoring me and my bizarro-ness is almost always preferable to engaging.

Besides, at this point, it’s not like it’s surprising. I think the only thing that would shock anyone at this stage would be if I ever seemed normal.

(Which, as unlikely as that might be, I bet still has a better chance than this stair-running idea actually working.)

Katie McDowell is a lifestyles writer/copy editor for The Dominion Post. Email her at kmcdowell@dominionpost.com.