Guess what?

No, tell me straightaway. I don’t like to be kept guessing, and most definitely do not like surprises. But I read suspense novels without reading the last chapter first, and I refrain from watching the last few minutes of a thriller while I'm halfway through. Self control, baby! OK OK, I know there’s nothing to be proud of, that was just me heaping junk on you.

So why do I not like surprises? I don’t want to say I hate surprises, because sometimes good surprises are well, good. But that doesn’t mean I am a big fan. No, sir, I'm not. Surprises are embarrassing. They catch you when your guard is down and your fortress is easily accessible to the barbarians. They sneak up from behind and scream and jump at you and your un-madeup face. Not that I always have layers of makeup on my face, but you know what I mean, don’t you?

I think I am becoming more and more of a perfectionist. I've always hated perfectionists, their strict adherence to rules and regulations, their insistence on doing everything right and perfect, the way they have everything neatly planned and executed. But, horror of horrors, I am becoming one!

I cannot sit and relax if I have loads of housework to do. I always go shopping (even if it’s at the local kirana shop) with a list of things to buy. When I have something important to do I always make a checklist to make sure that nothing is missed. This is top secret, but I’m making an exception now, just this time, and sharing it to you – I even make a spreadsheet of my monthly bills and their payment dates. Isn’t that a tad too much?

The reason I don’t like being surprised, I guess, is because I do not like not knowing things. No, I am not a know-it-all (though sometimes I tend to act like one), and I do not know many things under the sun (in fact I know very little, and am extremely thankful to Google and Wikipedia for making me sound like I know a bit).

Let me be specific here. When I say I do not like not knowing things, I mean relevant things. I don’t need to know what the national animal of East Samoa is. I think I will survive and breathe easy if I do not know how many litres of beer are consumed annually by Indians. And I don’t think I will be classified “ignorant” if I am blank when asked where the last KTP General Conference was held, and in which year, and how many packets of condoms were sold during the conference.

So what do I want to know? What are the relevant things that I so badly want to know? Actually, I don’t know that myself. I think I just hate it when things, situations go out of order, where it gets to the point where I cannot control it. That’s it! I'm a control freak! Oh joy, oh happiness! Ok now you can stop snickering and go to the comments section.