MY OBSESSIVE TICK

I check the dates on coins I receive as change. A former paramour, pointing out my largely unconscious quirk, mistook this habit for an interest in numismatics (I looked this word up to sound smarter, and blew it by saying so). "You're always looking at your change." It was a good time for us then; she probably thought my change-checking was adorable, I was charmed that she noticed something so insignificant.

Its not a complete unconscious activity. I'm checking the years on the coins, and determining whether or not its a year I'd like to “do over”. I also imagine – against logic and science and etc – that someday I might just find the magical coin that transports me through time, space, and matter and deposits my worldly, jaded consciousness into my 15-year old body - enabling me to not fuck-up in high school, to stand up to bullies, not be creepy to girls I like, and to generally be a better person. When I was in high school I was constantly battling with my parents about sartorial and haircut choices. In retrospect, I imagine cropping my hair short and wearing a shirt and tie to school everyday would have disturbed and enraged my father just as much ripped jeans, homemade t-shirts, and a face obscuring skater-flip. But then, subtlety and teenage rebellion don’t really go together.