Ok, so whenever I pick up a kitchen knife (usually to put it away after cleaning it, as I do not do much cooking), I have to pretend for a moment that I am a scary murderer. Maybe it's that I was obsessed with the Halloween movies as a junior high girl.
I lift up the knife and pretend to stalk something for a moment, and then I freak myself out and put it away. It always seems a bit too close to actually turning into a homicidal maniac, just raising the knife up.
I think it's linked to this conversation I had with j. years ago. Paraphrased.
Me: When you get near the edges of buildings do you ever freak yourself out by thinking: "I'll just jump." You know, envisioning the whole process of falling and splatting, and fearing your impulse control isn't strong enough to keep you from spontaneously doing it?
It's also like how I always have the urge to blurt out the most horridly inappropriate things, like... er PENIS when I'm in polite company. I think that's linked to having a social anxiety disorder though.