I am afraid, really really afraid...

Everytime I have the yen for a juicy barbeque steak (is this spelled right? barbeque??? need to check it out...) and prefer to have it done myself rather than to go to an expensive restaurant, I am faced with a mortal fear. So, today, I decide to get to the root of this mental block that has plagued me for as long as I can remember. Then, I need to look for a cure!

First order of business, scientifically speaking, is to analyze the situation and discover the roots of this problem. Roots? Looks like I need to dig!

Starting with just the letter "A," I can already think of at least 60 reasons contributing to my consternation, too numerous to tell you about all of them. Systematically though, I want to gather and list some of the possible causes that may contribute to my anguish:

Agliophobia or Algophobia are definitely suspect. And please, please, please, please do not confuse these with Agraphobia or Contreltophobia.

Now, Agrizoophobia is definitely in the hunt... although Aichmophobia comes close to being a possible candidate.

How about Amychophobia? Hhmmm, possible, possible!

Definitely, I need to consider Aphenphosmphobia but Apiphobia may be unfounded!

Are you ready to proceed to the letter "Z?"

Batrachophobia, Belonephobia, Blennophobia, Bufonophobia. Chiraptophobia, Cnidophobia (definitely, brrrr... this really, really scares me!)

Not to forget Doraphobia!

Enetophobia, Entomophobia, Haphephobia, Helminthophobia, Herpetophobia, Homichlophobia, Melissophobia, Microphobia, Molysmophobia, Mottephobia, Musophobia, Myrmecophobia, Myxophobia, Nosophobia, Odynophobia, especially Ophidiophobia!!!

Panthophobia, Parasitophobia, Pathophobia, Pediculophobia, Phobophobia, Phthiriophobia, Ranidaphobia, Scoleciphobia, Spermatophobia, Spheksophobia, Stenophobia, Suriphobia, Taeniophobia, Traumatophobia, Trypanophobia, Verminophobia
and finally, I know we eventually come to it... Zemmiphobia.

If you have not been able to figure out thus far what I am talking about beside the nebulous "obias," take a look at what I need to do! This is serious, and I am not talking about cleaning the cooking utensil! That's the easy part!



Once in a blue moon, I do get the urge to fire up my trusted 2 person BBQ and have a memorable cookout. I have all the tools and supplies conveniently tucked away inside my patio so it is a simple matter to start the process. However, to start, I need to get the charcoal out of the bag! This bag may have lingered outdoor for many moons and God only knows what may have transpired since it was last touched by a human. Now, how one would do this? What are the risks one encounters venturing one's hand inside this dark and forbidden space to retrieve the brickets? You know what I mean? What creature may be ambushing in there ready to strike without warning?

After seriously twisting my poor brain, here are a few possible cures, none of which I think will work:

1. Dump content by emptying into BBQ pit
2. Use long tongs to retrieve carbon brickets, one by one?
3. Use thick and heavy protecting gloves
4. Use transparent bag to contain charcoal.

It's a tough problem. 1 no doubt will give me a fit of C6FallingAllOverThePlacePhobia, 2 will trigger YouVeGotThreeOf42BricketAreWeThereYetPhobia, 3 WhereAreMyFingersThisWontWorkPhobia and 4 ItsAllBlackUCantSeeThruPhobia. Nah! I told you, none shall work!

I'll keep the status quo to enjoy the heart pounding adventures everytime I poke my hand in this unknown black hole. To be sure, I won't use my right hand. Wait a minute! I need to make sure I am not sinistral or southpaw, in which case I need to "not to use my left hand." One can never be too careful. Life is so stressful!