OCD

Today’s OCD post is inspired by Ash over at Not Necessarily Laughing with You.

For a really long time I never knew ANYONE who was as personally organized (work is a different story) as I. As a kid, I would plead to clean and organize my friends’ rooms. Parents actually liked when I came over because that meant their kid would likely be well-organized and tidy upon my departure (it's a wonder I don't have more friends). My sister used to bribe me and say things like, "If you do ____, I'll let you clean my room." Looking back, that really explains a lot.

I digress.

 

I’ve now realized there are more of me out there (thank you, fellow bloggers). In fact, I realized there are some who put my OCD to shame which makes me want to be more compulsive and be a better OCD-er. Actually, I'll add that to my 2013 resolutions.

Challenge accepted.

I’m stealing this link and posting it on my blog because I thought it may elicit some more folks to give me pointers divulge their OCD tendencies  – THERE’S NO SHAME, FOLKS. It happens to the best of us!!!

19 Things That Will Drive Your OCD Self Insane 

When I was at my boyfriend’s house over the holidays, his roommates left it in disarray before their respective holiday vacations and the pure cacophony of it all made my little OCD brain go into over-drive…

Me: Can we please clean up? I’m happy to do it.

Him: No! I’m not cleaning out of principle! It’s not your problem. If anything, I should clean it up.

Me: You don’t understand… you’re DEPRIVING ME. It is my problem.

Him: NO!

Me: (Rocking back and forth and tweaking out) But… but…

Him: NO! They won’t learn!

Later on I steal some floss plackers out of his bathroom stash and see a couple empty floss placker bags lying amongst the 10 other full bags in his plastic container. I quickly shut the lid, convulsed for about 5 minutes and left the bathroom – it took every ounce of self restraint to not throw away the empty bags and look for more I could throw away.

Then I go into his bedroom and empty our travel bag (his) which housed both of our things for a quick NYE trip and saw a bunch of random shit at the bottom of his bag, shit that I know has been there forever, ie: a wrapper, some receipts, a hotel toothbrush (not being used) and I don’t even know what else because I blacked out and peed my pants once I saw it.

How can people live like this? How on EARTH does one live with rando crap lying around everywhere, disorganized, out of place? Like, how does one even sleep?

I don’t even want to talk about the random shoe boxes he has in his closet which I don’t think are being utilized. Yes, I know all about those, pumpkin.

I will say I was very proud when he burned old bank statements during our visit. So proud. I'd put out just for that alone. I was, however, not impressed when he threw all the crap he had taken out from his desk, back in, not even thinking about how it would affect me and how disorganized it was. Not even sifting through to see what else he could throw out. There was no system in place. He didn't even care.

Is it so much to ask for things to be alphabetized, chronologically ordered, arranged by size and color-coordinated? Geez.

I think. He’s trying. To kill me.

Yes, I understand I’m ill.