We’re all weirdos.

You may deny the fact, but there is something inane about all of us.

Some people step around the word “idiosyncrasies.” Instead, they say they have “a system.”

People have a system as to how they set their tools apart in the garage. Some folks have a system for their cookware. I have a system for how I sleep.

There’s a funny episode of “Frasier” when his brother Niles spends the night in Frasier’s bedroom and has ten machines hissing, pumping and humming along as he retreats to his bed. A humidifier, an air purifier, a sound machine that sounds like whales mating to Kabuki music. You get the picture.

I’m not far from that.

I do have a misting humidifier, an air purifier, a mini-sound system with small speakers just above my bed (no whales humping), a small fireplace, a fan and the ability to dim every light in the room.

You may think I’m crazy. The voices in my head would agree.

I have a process that helps me sleep soundly. If not, my mind races and I begin thinking of unanswerable questions.

“Why is there an expiration date on sour cream? Is a fly without wings called a walk? Does the Little Mermaid wear an algebra? What if there were no hypothetical questions?”

The older I get, the more I embrace my idiosyncrasies and quirks.

When I grab a newspaper out of a rack, I always grab the top copy but no one else I’ve talked to does the same. Why do you need to reach down so far in the machine? If you want yesterday’s news, keep digging in that filthy machine.

I like my toilet paper “over,” while some prefer “under.” Neanderthals.

I think that only idiosyncratics are confident. It requires a great deal of wisdom to be confused when sorting socks.

The pandemic has done wonders for my being idiosyncratic. Solitude is a breeding ground, let me tell you. I can’t believe how many of my shirts refused to be ironed inside-out.

Idiosyncrasies and peculiarities are two different things. Jiggling yout key in the door is an idiosyncrasy. Holding your key still and jiggling the house is downright peculiar.

It always amazes me the idiosyncrasies people end up disliking others for. At the dinner table, if you tuck your napkin into your shirt, that might be an idiosyncrasy. If you wear your napkin like a babushka, then you should be tested.

Some people think being eclectic means they’re idiosyncratic. Not so.

I have a friend who is allergic to air. That’s an idiosyncrasy. That’s not really a quirk though. The guy needs air, for crap’s sake. He’s not a fish.

If you tap your head when you think, that too is an idiosyncrasy. If you tap your feet when you think, then there is a good chance that you have to go to the bathroom.

And if you tap your head to your feet when you think, call Cirque du Soleil.

If you’re extremely idiosyncratic and quirky, and people are pushing your buttons, trust me, they’re just looking for mute.

I don’t have a “Do Not Disturb” sign on my door. Mine says, “Already disturbed. Enter at your own risk.”

I only trust people with big butts. They cannot lie.

I was texting a friend about his idiosyncrasies. Auto correct completely screwed up my text. I started saying things I didn’t Nintendo.

As an idiosyncratic person, I don’t mind if you pet my peeves.

I know I’m idiosyncratic and I like Rick Astley because I know there are things that he will never do: give you up, let you down, run around, dessert you, make you cry, say goodbye, tell a lie, hurt you.

I like hanging out with friends who are younger than me. They are not terribly quirky. Yet. But I used to prefer hanging out with older people until I realized they are harder and harder to find.

I think Facebook is perfect for idiosyncratic people. Where else can you post a plate of cookies that you baked next to someone whining about needing a good podiatrist because of their toenail fungus?

I thought yoga was going be wonderfully perfect for any of my idiosyncrasies, until I realized I was just a middle aged man walking around with a rug.

I know I’m idiosyncratic because there are only four things I need: fire, water, gravel and vinyl. Gotta have my vinyl.

If you recall, I went camping last year for the first time in decades and it was a perfect venue for my quirks. Until I discovered that camping is nature’s way of promoting the hotel industry.

The world is full of quirky people and things. And quirky people who do quirky things. Quirkiness in conversation is difficult. Because the opposite of talking is not listening. It is waiting.