I don’t know why, but for aslong as I can remember I’ve always been one big scaredy cat. Someone doesn’t even need to make a noise to make me jump, just being there is enough.
My most recent incident of jumping out of my socks was last night. I had been in my Universities library for most of the evening, and it was way past 10.00pm when I decided enough was enough. So I packed up my things and headed for the main entrance to leave. Upon reaching the entrance I had the fright of my life and physically jumped when a fellow student proceeded to enter as I was exiting. He made no effort whatsoever to scare me but he certainly did.
This condition I have (If you can call it that) is rather embarrassing at times. My friends know what I’m like and any given chance they will try to make me jump and most of the time they manage it.
At a previous job, when the days were going rather slow, me and my former workmates invented a game where we would all take it in turns to try to scare each other. A huge building full of folders on rows and rows of shelves made for many opportunities for this. But once again, everyone soon found out that I wasn’t very good at the game. My turn would usually see me attempting to scare someone only to be made to jump myself at their reaction to me scaring them. A vicious cycle if ever I saw one.
So there we have it, I’ve admitted it. I am a scaredy cat.