I Make Fun Of Me So You Don’t Have To. But Join In.

I have self diagnosed myself with OCD.

“Self”, meaning me, has absolutely no knowledge base or skills to make said diagnosis.

“OCD” meaning I really have no idea if I am or not but I would venture to say I have some OCD tendencies.   And I would like to make it known that this is not a bad thing.

I like things to go a certain way.  If they don’t go a certain way I am very uncomfortable unhappy freaked out.   Fine, I’ll just put that out there.  But by freaked out I mean that the world is not aligned correctly and things are not in balance.  There for I am not really freaked out, the world is out of kilter.  Which is kind of freaky if you think about it.

I go to work every morning.  To be on time I must be early.   Not early=late.   I turn on my computer, check my time and write it down in my calendar to show myself I am indeed getting to work on time.   I pull my list to me that I started yesterday.   Stop judging me.  It’s not like I predicted my entire day.  I just listed the things I knew I would have to be doing (some of them being the same thing every single day) and leaving blank lines for things that will pop up.   See, I plan for am comfortable with the unexpected.  I will write down something I end up doing.  And when something is complete, I can cross it off.   The end of the day must have everything crossed off, or a reason written by it, or one of my code marks telling me I didn’t do it but it wasn’t my fault (a squiggly line means it was something that did not happen because it was cancelled).

I keep two notepads by my computer.  One is my list.   One is my notes.  Then I have a voice mail log (that we have to keep) on my desk.   Let me tell you about the intense chest pain discomfort I felt when I returned to work one day after a day off to discover that  my boss had written me a message on my list notepad.  If you think that was bad (and you should) you have no idea the near freak out I had when I flipped the page and she had rewritten the same message on the next page.   I nearly had a seizure.  And, I said out loud to the empty and dark land of cubicles “why did she do that?  and why did she have to rewrite it again?”

I’m pretty sure these things are well hidden.  But funny enough, when my boss go to work she came over to talk to me.  To tell me she had written me a note.  Did I get it.  I said (surely) very sweetly “I got both of them”.   She immediately apologized for writing it twice, and she acknowledged, on my list notepad.  But she couldn’t find the other notepad, the one I wrote notes on.  The one I promptly stuck my pen upon indicating this one?   I think I scared her a little that day…. By then I had remedied the situation by taping over the first offensive note with properly lined up page torn from the back of the notepad.   And had to tear out the second page.  I have since started writing my lists a week in advance.  It saves time to do it in bulk anyway.

We all had a good laugh about this because both my boss and my coworker were well aware of these issues ways of mine.   Seriously, I fixed it.   Really, I am okay now.

Every morning before work, for over ten years now, I have gotten up and rode my bike on a trainer in my house.  I did not think this was an OCD tendency.  I thought it was great self discipline.  I did it to try and keep my weight in check.  And I did it to add healthy years to my life because there are things I need to be doing in forty years.   Apparently, it might be a little OCDish.   The Monday after the storm that knocked our electric out for a week- I was spent.  I was hot.  I was tired.  I didn’t think I could make myself ride my bike in 90 + temperatures in the house.  It had been a long weekend.  A miserable weekend of not being able to do the things we had planned and not being able to do the things I needed wanted to do that I always did.  I easily gave myself permission to not ride that morning.

I will never do that again.

And you should hope that I don’t either.

I don’t color coordinate my clothes in the closet.  But please, oh please, do not hang up my pants on the side of the closet that my shirts are hung up on.  It’s just confusing.

I start my mornings with water while I ride, then green smoothie, then coffee.  In that order.  The rest of the day is flexible.  So that is not really OCD.   In my humble and uneducated opinion.

Every time my Husband gets a bagel he has to give me the first bite.  That, is his issue.  And another story.   Me, on the other hand, will not share my food.  At all.   Ever.  Do not ever go out to eat with me and suggest “you order this, I’ll order that, and we’ll each switch half.”    No.  We.  Won’t.

Things that I can do that make me pretty certain I am not full blown OCD:

Wear my socks inside out.  Or one the right way and one inside out.

Leave dishes undone.  (Okay, I used to not be able to do that.  Now I am cured lazy.)

Not care if a dish gets broken and I don’t have a full set.

No hoarding.  I have a lot of stuff.  But that’s not the same thing.

I used to count the steps when I went up them.  When I was a kid.  I don’t do that anymore.   I think when I was a kid I didn’t know you didn’t have to count them.  Now I know you don’t have to count them.  So I don’t.

I like order.   Like the milk and water bottles should be in the same place in the fridge.  But that just makes sense.  You know when you’re out of stuff opposed to where the hell did Husband put the milk this time?

I know OCD is a serious problem for many people.   And I’m not making light of their situation.

Fortunately for me, my OCD tendencies border on ridiculous.   Not serious.  So I make fun of myself about it.  So you won’t don’t have to.  But really, I’m okay if you do.

Just do it in an orderly fashion please.