We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

Or at least, I am. The alternate title for this post was “Two sparks can set the whole thing off.” Because . . . lately I have been conducting crazy amounts of static electricity.

I am not joking even a little bit.

And I am not ashamed to say it is freaking me out. For the past three weeks, at least once a day I have touched something (often my poor mother) and gotten a spark. Most of the time it hurts, a lot. Sometimes I can even see the sparks. That can’t be normal right?

It seems to have eased up now. The theory is that it had something to do with flannel pajama pants and/or dragging my feet. Although upon further analysis neither theory makes much sense given that it often happens in my rubber soled shoes or flip flops. It was particularly worrisome when it happened at work. But now it seems to have passed.

Nonetheless, after three weeks of near-constant static electricity surrounding me, I will never be able to listen to Bonnie Tyler’s song “Total Eclipse of the Heart” or Elton John’s song “Tinderbox” in the same way. Because it could have been me. Because I was giving off the sparks!