Minor things which repulse me

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I’m so repulsed by the two words that I’m about to write that I’ve had to clear a no-eating window on either side of this. The two words combined disgust me and I feel ill just thinking them.

Okay, let’s do it. Bin juice. The liquid seepage from the bottom of a bin bag. And it’s not the actual seepage that I’m bothered about, although it’s far from ideal. It’s the two words together. Bin and juice.

I can’t even quite grasp what turns my stomach so. I tried combining ‘bin’ with other liquids to find out.

Bin water: fine

Bin tea: fine

Bin wine: fine

Bin milk: oh god, no!

But even that is not quite as bad as bin juice.

The word ‘juice’ is causing most of the problem, as I also really hate it when people talk about baked beans and they use the words ‘bean juice’.

I need to go and lie down and take some deep breaths now.

Here’s the next one. Imagine you’ve cooked some delicious penne pasta and have just poured it into a colander or sieve to drain the water. You then glance back at the empty saucepan, but see that some of the penne pasta remains. It’s got stuck to the bottom, but it’s not lying flat. It’s vertically sticking up, like some revolting sea anemone.

It’s all those holes together that kill me as I SUFFER from trypophobia. An irrational fear or repetitive holes or patterns. If you’re not sure if this would bother you, Google image it.

I went snorkelling once, which in itself is incredible, as I freak out even at the thought of a fish touching me. But I was on a day trip on a boat and had had two cocktails, so I was an entirely different version of myself. I went underwater and I was fine. Many fish brushed past me, I saw turtles swimming and I started to fantasise about becoming a scuba diver and getting my PADI certification.

And then I saw a globe shape on the seabed and it was grey and looked a bit like a rock, but it had a perfect geometric shape on it. It wasn’t just repulsive to look at; it also really troubled me. Like I’d glimpsed through a crack into the dark side. Which is admittedly unlikely while snorkelling on holiday.

Next one. When people eat an apple down to the very tiny brown spindly core. Once again, I can’t quite put my finger on what troubles me, but I have to stop eating an apple before there’s even a hint of a seed. Any change in colour and I’m gone. My partner goes right down like he’s a starving animal getting every last bit of flesh from the bone. It’s so spindly and disgusting. My son did it once and now I only give him a cut-up apple as I can’t bear it.

Last one. Cottage cheese. I’m aware that a lot of these are food-based. I think the world can be divided into those who think it would be fun to have a food fight and those who would find it disgusting. It won’t surprise you to know that I’m the latter.

There is a lot to be repulsed by when it comes to food and cottage cheese is no exception. First of all, it has irregular lumps. No, thank you. And second of all, it’s got the word ‘cottage’ in it. When I think of a cottage, I’m not thinking of anywhere particularly clean. There’s a filthy range cooker and too many ancient blankets and cushions and cat hair. I don’t know why I think this, but I do.

So put the word cottage with this lumpy stuff and I’m out forever. Fully repulsed. And if there were cottage cheese, bin juice, bean juice, upright penne pasta and a brown, spindly apple core food fight, I’d probably go into that crack to the dark side just to get away.