Windsor Knots and Bloodlust
I've been on so many job interviews lately that I've learned to tie a proper Windsor knot. I can't do it while looking in a mirror though. For some reason I get all confused while watching my hands work. They fumble all about themselves and the knot goes awry. If I don't look at what I'm doing, the knot comes together of its own accord as though some dark magic were at work.
I had to learn how to tie a full Windsor because the asymmetry of a half-Windsor nags at me. I won't try to pretend there isn't some part of me that is thinking to myself, “I'll bet everyone is looking at my crooked tie, and they all hate me for it.” Which might be true, because, frankly, your own crooked tie does in fact bother me quite a little bit. However, mostly, the problem is I feel my own awareness of the crookedness of my tie slowly expanding until the fact of it fills the entire universe.
Asymmetry doesn't bother me outright, however. If it did I'd be in a constant state of conflict with my own nose. It's when a thing or group of things are nearly symmetrical but not exactly quite that they begin to irk me. If you were to visit my apartment you might notice that I make a conscious effort to disrupt symmetries at every turn. It's not complete chaos, but it's definitely dynamic. And there's a bicycle in the living room, which is arguably atypical for a guy who can tie a Windsor knot.