Friday, May 20, 2011

Obsess Much?

I like things just so. If you know me (which you probably do if you're reading this, otherwise how did you find me, you lucky soul?!) you know this already. Most of the time, I don't realize when I'm being a little too crazy unless someone is close enough to me to notice. It's usually the weird looks and raised eyebrows that I get from my parents or brother that let me know when I'm "doing it again."

For instance... I like condiments with just about anything dippable (is that a word? yes.) I generally want at least two options and then I line them up in a row and dip in order, trying not to repeat the same sauce twice... until I get close to the end of the meal and then I tend to stick to the one that I'm enjoying the most. When I eat spaghetti, I cut the noodles in a checkerboard-type pattern. I cut the lines one way, then turn my plate to cut them across the other way. This happened last night and I knew that I was going to get laughed at when I saw my brother watching me turn my plate. I have a method when eating a sandwich and corn on the cob. The method for corn on the cob is mostly to avoid feeling like I have butter and corn all over the sides of my mouth. Okay, maybe with the sandwich (especially PB&J), too. I also don't like it when other people wash my clothes because I don't really like the thought of someone doing it differently than I would. Not that they aren't capable or I don't appreciate the help, it just bugs me. (My mom will both love knowing this and think I need to be committed for it at the same time. She's probably right.)

When I write in my journal, I use the same pen (black Pilot G2, .07mm; .05mm is too thin, .10mm bleeds everywhere) every night until it runs out. I generally have at least one on stand-by because it would drive me insane to know that just one page, out of the 200 or so in my journal, is written in a different kind of ink. Even if it's still black. I rarely go back and read what I've written in my journal (because I end up crying), but I never correct anything or cross anything out. I feel like it would be altering history or something. No matter how stupid or ridiculous or sad or insignificant now, it's a part of me and who I am and might just be worth a laugh some day... in the very far distant future, to someone other than myself.

I just spent the last half hour or so making some minor changes to the layout of my blog, which is what made me think of all of this. I intentionally set up my sidebar at one point in time, but just about every time I make any sort of aesthetic changes, I end up changing the order of the items in. I will rearrange the order, change the heading(s), something. And, inevitably, I think to myself "Who put these like this? It makes no sense!" while I'm making said changes. As if someone else did it! I will also edit the layout of any given post if it doesn't match the basic formatting that I've set up for myself (font, type size, justification. colors vary based on my mood, the topic, and the one I last remember using, which should be avoided.). Blame that one on the day job I used to have.

That's just how off-my-rocker I am. I'm calling it situational Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, self-diagnosed, of course. There is a rule for just about every situation, but they don't necessarily apply to similar situations. And when there isn't a rule, or even the idea of a rule, in place... Heaven help me. I may not end up in the fetal position on the floor, but it's probably written all over my face. Go ahead, point and laugh.

P.S. As I prepared to post this, I was given a handful of Reese's Pieces and I am making sure that I don't eat two of the same color piece back to back. Straight jacket for one? Right here.

1 comment:

Melissa said...

ok, sounds like you have WAY too much excess time on your hands. Where were you and Em this morning??? What in the world? Quite frankly I think your blog could use a little "pizzaz" some background color, maybe a pattern????? : )