Ceiling Fans. That's my destiny.
It must be something to do with my nascent distrust of engineering standards, but everytime I'm under a ceiling fan, I'm thinking about how thoroughly it was attached to the ceiling, whether or not the installer was having an off day / doing drugs / suffering through a painful breakup / just plain nasty. It also strikes me that if you're in a hotel or apartment complex, the lowest bidder probably got the ceiling fan contract. I do understand that it would be detrimental to their future sales to have a customer beheaded by the whirling dervish of death - but maybe they figure these things in like a car company deciding to recall a model only after .x percent of fatal crashes.
I don't want to persuade anyone to join my nasty little phobia support group, and in the interests of full disclosure, just let me state that I have recently installed ceiling fans in my house.
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