The Greatest Fear

I have a really terrible fear of staples. Amongst all the fears I have – rejection, dying, porn, burgers, glass, the dark, being alone, getting lost – the worst is probably staples. Extremely closely followed by the dark.

Staples, why. I’m talking the metal things that hold sheets of paper together. They’re like thin steel pins bent into shape, usually punched at the edge or corner of a stack of paper. I am really sure you understand what I’m talking about.

Okay, apparently they are called “fasteners” too (thanks Wikipedia).

Yeah, I hate those things. A lot. And my severe phobia of these metal pins started when I was about nine or ten years old. I had a traumatising experience, which would, on other planets, be considered hilarious or funny.

I had seen my teachers staple posters to walls and noticeboards with a stapler, and seeing things this way – the way they opened the stapler 180 degrees, and pressed the top of the stapler flat on the wall, successfully attaching our wonderful works of art to the already messy noticeboard – really amazed me. Come on, I had seen this kind of thing from the age of five right through to the age of nine.

Amazed by this effortless technique, yet not owning a board to be able to practise on, I continued to think about it.

One day I was creating a hat – more specifically, a crown – of paper. The paper was in a long strip and I would staple it at the end. I didn’t even think of doing it the civil way by placing the ends between in the stapler and pressing. It did not even cross my mind because I was imagining the technique my teachers had employed.

I opened the stapler to 180 degrees and held the paper up in front of me, pushing the stapler forward.

Georgina, you stupid idiot.

I withdrew my hands from the stapler only to find my two forefingers successfully attached to the idiotic crown I had created, blood oozing out from the teeth marks the executed staple had made in my skin.

Ouch.

Ever since, I have tried to refrain from having to remove staples from paper, but my hands always seem to shake a bit when I handle anything with staples. To put it simply: I hate it.

At work, the children’s worksheets are bound together in a booklet so that they are easily ripped, like notepaper from a notepad with the glued spine. However, some stupid idiotic parents think it’s okay to staple all down the fucking side of the booklet when the sheets fall apart, or in the corner, which undeniably enrages me.

Not only do I have a severe fear of staples, but screw you, it is really difficult to turn a page when it is hindered by staples! 😡

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