suitably*woundedIf You're OCD And You Know It Clap Your Hands....
November 7th 2006 07:41
If you're OCD and you know it clap your hands,
If you're OCD and you know it
And you really wanna show it,
If you're OCD and you know it clap your hands!
::: loudly bangs cymbals :::
Okay, maybe not so much, but I wonder what all fails you guys, via said OCD, like it does me? I know that I can actually remember what must be a whiff of this back in the days pre-breakdown. I was anal (to the point of obnoxiousness -- perhaps then it should be OOCD) about fringe.... on pillows and rugs definitely. Also a perennial favorite, was the whole "Are you sure you turned off the lights/stove/electric chair?" business. To say I was a Type A perfectionist would win me the Understatement of the Year award. Don't even ask what rituals were necessary before I could take over a new desk at work. Let's just say it would make the neurotic Martha Stewart blush. And all that's just to name a few.
But now? Well, first of all, there's got to be some reason that I ended up with that many clowns. [Aside to Bryn: No, none of them were in the drain.] Then, early on, there was the bathing thing, right on par with Howard and his Goose. Next, it's any new quirk that catches my attention and has to be accomplished right NOWNOWNOW! For example, I wanted to learn to play the guitar, so a second-hand one was purchased along with the various (cheap) paraphernalia almost at the minute the idea occurred. Same things held true with knitting, pottery, certain books to pursue (current obsessions are with Jack Ketchum and John Saul -- could anybody hook me up with the former? I do have a kidney to sale....) or movies to watch, and anything else from my childhood that I must recreate. 'Cause, you know, it makes me feel safer and it's the only memories thus far that seem untainted. I'm positive that'll change at some later date. However, I tried strenuously to make these work, but sadly, I have no talent anymore (if I ever did in the first place) and failed miserably to do what I'd planned. Always.
For the finale, I'll show the near derangement I go through every time I wish to sleep. Initially we have the constantly, repetitious checking of the sheets. Since I travel commando (all the better to avoid twisting clothes that have to be just so), one must not encounter even a speck. I would've had a hell of a problem with that pea, lemme tell ya. Then there's the light issue. As a kid I was terrified of the dark because I thought Linda Blair would spin her head around and come get me (fortunately, she no longer appears interested), but I fought that battle and came out on top as a lover of the darkside. Which means that these days, every source of light must be obliterated. The numbers on the clock, the indicators that tell if your electric blanket/power cord/cable TV is on. Ugh, it's so bad that just the tiniest glimpse from our security bulb outside and I. simply. can. not. sleep. In my quasi-defense though, it's not like I can do that much anyway.
Therefore I query; What's it to you? Um, that's not it. How about; Because I've shown my dirty laundry, will you let me have a peak at yours?
Until next blubbering, same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.
Peaces,
~Kemi
If you're OCD and you know it
And you really wanna show it,
If you're OCD and you know it clap your hands!
::: loudly bangs cymbals :::
Okay, maybe not so much, but I wonder what all fails you guys, via said OCD, like it does me? I know that I can actually remember what must be a whiff of this back in the days pre-breakdown. I was anal (to the point of obnoxiousness -- perhaps then it should be OOCD) about fringe.... on pillows and rugs definitely. Also a perennial favorite, was the whole "Are you sure you turned off the lights/stove/electric chair?" business. To say I was a Type A perfectionist would win me the Understatement of the Year award. Don't even ask what rituals were necessary before I could take over a new desk at work. Let's just say it would make the neurotic Martha Stewart blush. And all that's just to name a few.
But now? Well, first of all, there's got to be some reason that I ended up with that many clowns. [Aside to Bryn: No, none of them were in the drain.] Then, early on, there was the bathing thing, right on par with Howard and his Goose. Next, it's any new quirk that catches my attention and has to be accomplished right NOWNOWNOW! For example, I wanted to learn to play the guitar, so a second-hand one was purchased along with the various (cheap) paraphernalia almost at the minute the idea occurred. Same things held true with knitting, pottery, certain books to pursue (current obsessions are with Jack Ketchum and John Saul -- could anybody hook me up with the former? I do have a kidney to sale....) or movies to watch, and anything else from my childhood that I must recreate. 'Cause, you know, it makes me feel safer and it's the only memories thus far that seem untainted. I'm positive that'll change at some later date. However, I tried strenuously to make these work, but sadly, I have no talent anymore (if I ever did in the first place) and failed miserably to do what I'd planned. Always.
For the finale, I'll show the near derangement I go through every time I wish to sleep. Initially we have the constantly, repetitious checking of the sheets. Since I travel commando (all the better to avoid twisting clothes that have to be just so), one must not encounter even a speck. I would've had a hell of a problem with that pea, lemme tell ya. Then there's the light issue. As a kid I was terrified of the dark because I thought Linda Blair would spin her head around and come get me (fortunately, she no longer appears interested), but I fought that battle and came out on top as a lover of the darkside. Which means that these days, every source of light must be obliterated. The numbers on the clock, the indicators that tell if your electric blanket/power cord/cable TV is on. Ugh, it's so bad that just the tiniest glimpse from our security bulb outside and I. simply. can. not. sleep. In my quasi-defense though, it's not like I can do that much anyway.
Therefore I query; What's it to you? Um, that's not it. How about; Because I've shown my dirty laundry, will you let me have a peak at yours?
Until next blubbering, same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.
Peaces,
~Kemi
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