By nature I am a pretty structured person.   I like some things to be the same.  Change can really throw my life forces out of whack.   Not  always.  But some things I like to stay the same.

There use to be a place I loved to go to for lunch.   They had the best chili ever, and a killer home made honey mustard dressing I would get on their wonderful grilled chicken salad.   If anyone asked me if I wanted to go to lunch they knew where I would pick to go if given the responsibility of choosing.  Yes I could eat there five days a week.   And would have if it had not been annoying to others who like to mix life up a little bit.

Then they closed.

I don’t know how to appropriately type out a gutteral brain scream.   But that’s what I did then.  And do now when I drive by where it use to be on the corner.

There are some things I like, and that’s all there is to it.  I like it so why do I have to try other things?   Why do I have to have variety in things that I like so much I never get enough of them/it.

I’m not opposed to trying new things.   I’m open to new challenges.  I’m game for excitement.

Just know that there are some things I am pretty stuck in the mud about.   I love Tim Horton’s.   There.  I said it.   I love their coffee.   I love their cinnamon raisin bagels.  I love their ice capps.  If given an option of there or somewhere else, I’m picking there.

Wearing the color black.  I don’t care what you say, black is a color.  I love it.  I would wear it every day.   It just looks good.

Yes, if I go out in public I have to take a shower before going to bed.   Hello!  Have you never heard of germs people?  I’m not taking public germs to bed with me.  Ugh.

There is a place in the refrigerator and everything has it’s proper place in there.   Why?   Because after years of perfecting this system it is so easy to reach in and get what you want, no time wasted staring at what is or is not in there.  Not to mention a quick glance tells you when you are out of something.   You don’t have to spend precious time rummaging about looking all over for something you eventually discover you don’t have any more.   Now if only I could get husband to follow my system.   We’re making progress.

I have no problem admitting I am PTOCD.    You probably have no idea what that means.  It stands for:  Part Time Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Some things do not freak me out.

I can leave some things lay about the house without picking them up.   I can tolerate some clutter.

My clothes are not perfectly folded and organized in my dresser, nor hung perfectly in my closet.  Yes, I have an order of where things go.   But I gave up on the perfecting of it (mostly because of the other things I am OCD about).

I have a happy balance of things I need structured.  And things that can have variety and spontaneity.  I know the difference.   If you need further schooling, let me know.

I’ll email you my daily schedule.   Routine is good.