I got that OCD
Okay, so I’m obsessive-compulsive. I can’t deny it. Although I have to ask Captain Larby if the fact that I know about my OCD means that I’m not that far gone. I can’t recall exact pecadillos, but I’m sure I must have exhibited some OCD behavior in my college days, too. At first, it was often in the back of my mind that Larby would be sizing me up as fodder for his Psych papers. I don’t have to wash my hands 10 consecutive times or touch the door knob 100 times with my left pinky knuckle before I can leave my apartment. But I’ll share with you one facet of my OCD…
The weather up here in New England has been cold, gray, and rainy for a week now. I broke down and wore a sweater today. I thought that I was saved from wearing this thing until November, but I found myself pulling it out of my closet this morning without so much as a quick inspection. Anyway, here I am at my desk at work and I’ve been picking the pills and fuzzes off this fucking thing for over a half hour. I started picking them off while still wearing the sweater, but then I could see more little fuzzies around the back, so I had to remove the sweater and proceed to clean it off unencumbered.
I don’t put clothing such as this in the dryer for fear of shrinkage, so I end up with this pill & fuzz problem. These are impervious to lint brushes (but you already knew I had a lint brush, I’m sure). I had to get rid of a couple of old blankets I used to put on my bed because I’d spend nearly an hour removing pills and fuzzes that I could feel as I scanned my hand over the blanket. Then I’d end up with a mountain range of colored fuzzies on the floor, so I’d have to get out of bed to pick them up. It was not exactly the restful bedtime experience one longs for. But I now use only bed clothes that do not accumulate such demonic bumps.
It took me longer than usual to type up this diatribe, but I think I’ve gotten most of the fuzzies off my sweater. Now what? Ah, yes, I think I’ll liberate my desk with that air duster. Please excuse me.
Mrs. Larby
I appreciate your efforts to keep a neat a lin free lifestyle CJ.
I can relate to your slight case of OCD…with regards to my food shopping experience. It is a systematic ritual that although, I may not be fond of the duty, it is in fact necessary and I take it quite seriously. The same grocery store every week, the same isles, the same foodstuffs.
But…there is a methedology to it all…fruits and veggies first in the back right hand corner of the carriage, tomatoes on top section that foldes down…then the deli counter, the Captain’s lunch meat stacked beneath the tomatoes…then onto the fish counter, which then gets perched atop the tomates….then onto the grocery isels, one by one, always finishing with dairy items at the end.
On the rare occasion when the Captain joins me for one of these expeditions he immediately trys to change my routine. Deli counter first, then veggies and fruits…ect. AND THEN he tries to put things in the cart where they most certainly don’t belong. It only takes a few moments before I am trying not to hurdle the delectable Boars Head meat at HIS head. But I patiantly hold my tongue and discreetlt rearrange things while he is not looking (because I know I know I’m crazy but I don’t want to give anyone reason to voice this out loud).
On a really bad day when the Cap’n is twitching his fingers and wanting to skip aisles because he is anxious to be done with the shopping trip that puts food on his plate 7 days a week…he gets banished to the car with a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup to sooth his frayed emotions.
May 12th, 2006 at 12:00 pmCool Jesus
Maybe if you let Larby “ride” in one of those race car shopping carriages, he’ll be more eager to spend an hour at the supermarket?
May 12th, 2006 at 4:24 pm