I suffer from sandwich anxiety.

I think I’m terrified of the prospect of ordering anything from Subway except a footlong BLT with pickles and green peppers. I went through a period maybe five or six years ago where I almost ordered something different, but forget it. That ship has long sailed. I feel like the sandwich artists at Subway can see through me, as though if I even attempted to order something different they would sense my insecurity and feel betrayed.

I get the feeling a lot of people are like me in this regard. Paralyzed with options, they stick to what they know is, er, delicious. As far as I know there is not a term for this particular ailment, so I’ll propose one: Sandwich Anxiety. I’ll get the ball rolling on the paperwork required to get this into the DSM-IV.

On a related note, what is the difference between a sandwich, a sammich and a sangwich? Is there a difference? This keeps me up nights, sometimes.