You spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round...

Thanks to the valiant efforts of the talented BF™ I have been made aware of a frightening fact about myself... something I was blissfully unaware of, but now that I am cognisant of it, it cannot and should not be ignored. What exactly I am going to do about it, I cannot say. (Need to formulate one of those famous POAs that people in movies talk about.)

Let me cut to the chase here and spit out my terrible confession. This is might be hard to handle, people, please don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I am an inadvertent and incessant thumb-twiddler! (believe me, I know how bad that sounds - it is that bad) Like a harmless, elderly man with a sweet-smelling pipe, white goatee beard and a pot-belly, I can be found sitting any place, any time, twiddling my opposable thumbs in my lap. The worst part is that I never know I’m doing it until the talented BF™ draws my attention to my hands (either by clapping his own paw over mine at social events, or telling me to look down).

It’s quite mortifying to look into one’s lap and observe one’s shortest, thickest digits (MS Word dictionary definition of thumb) churning unstoppably and at great speed. Clearly, I have been doing it for many years because such proficiency is not learned in a week! I can do it so fast in both directions - and change direction so smoothly - that if thumb-twiddling were an Olympic Sport (maybe, someday??) I would be the Zola Budd of Twiddling. She runs barefoot and I twiddle naked. And by naked I mean with uncovered thumbs, okay? As in, no gloves and no nail-polish for a smoother slide. Au naturel, quoi.

Voila, it’s out there now. I hope we can still be friends.....?