writers neuroses, eleventy-bajillion and one:

When your advance cheque arrives, you do not cash it immediately — in case your publisher contacts you with the news that it's all been a dreadful mistake, and the cheque's been cancelled. After some small eternity, you muster the courage to deposit the cheque — but you open a separate account and dare not touch it. That way the money will be ready. You know, in case.

You are, ergo, a constant source of amusement to all who know you.

This is some consolation for the unstoppable force of your own irrationality.