At our house we don’t eat meals at the kitchen table.
We don’t even have a kitchen table. What we do have is a very tiny house and all that works as an eating surface in the kitchen is the countertop. Even when we did have a table and room for its existence in an appropriate space as we did in our old apartment, we rarely (MAYBE twice) ate a meal there.
Our meals, from breakfast to dinner and any and all snacks in between, take place in the living room over the coffee table and in front of the television. It’s like killing 3 birds with one stone. We get increased comfort, sustenance AND entertainment all rolled into one.
We are so fucking evolved it’s not even funny.
I have been late to work on numerous occasions because I simply can-not leave the house unless the entire living room is straightened up; blankets folded, throw pillows *just so*, all miscellaneous items returned to their proper place and good LORD! let’s pray there are no dishes on the drying rack because I’ll have to put those away too even if it’s 7:30 in the morning and the bee is still asleep and the sound of dishes being slapped on top of each other followed by the BANG! of the cabinets is completely disruptive to a sleeping bee and I. KNOW. THIS. but something deeeeeeeeeeeeeep down inside my inner sanctum tells me that the world will COLLAPSE if I don’t put that fork in the drawer before I leave.
Maybe you are like this too?!
We should start a club!
We’ll just arrange for someone to mess up a room and we’ll all get together and put everything back where it should be for like an hour every Tuesday night!
How fun does that sound?
Here’s the part where I explain what an anomaly it is that I am the way that I am based on what exactly it is that I am.
You see, I am completely deranged into order and balance but I fear this is all because I am, in actuality, a complete and total SLOB-zilla.
I usually spend most of my time cleaning up after myself because I’m such a sloppy klutz. My clothes are always wrinkled and disheveled and just the other day I almost walked out of the lady’s room at work with my skirt tucked into my underwear.
Thankfully, another bathroom patron was kind enough to bring this to my attention before I embarrassed myself (more than the norm) in front of my colleagues. If I wore lipstick, there would certainly be more on my teeth than my lips, hence why I don’t wear it.
Yet, when it comes to any area of my life that I can seemingly control, WATCH OUT! because my obsessive need for order will likely overtake all else, leaving your own life’s needs/wants to be swallowed up by me and the need to sort things out MY way.
To the great dismay of the bee, we can’t have a certain pillow/pillowcase combo on the bed because then it would throw off the balance of the bed. The really funny thing is I almost never actually make the bed (because WHAT is the point?). It’s just that were I to know that one of the pillows wasn’t the right weight/shape/consistency to appropriately match its “pair” then I would likely obsess about it until I had pulled out all my eyebrows and my teeth were ground down to a pulp.
Say we had 6 identical cups and one of them broke.
I would rather break another cup to keep the set even rather than have an additional, perfectly good cup ruin EVERYTHING by leaving the set with an odd number.
I love Häagen-Dazs. It’s probably the best ice cream in existence and it comes in containers sized most perfectly for just the right amount of over-indulgence.
Like a lot of people, I eat it my Häagen-Dazs straight from the container. The only problem is in order for me to finish I need to ensure that I have eaten the ice cream in an even method so that the surface remains flat, without dents or chunks missing before I put it back in the freezer. If there are dents? (god help us) I will have to continue to eat it until the surface of the ice cream is smooth once more. This is a highly delicious yet ill-advised technique because on numerous occasions I’ve been forced to finish an entire tub in one sitting because I couldn’t get the symmetry right which typically ends in midnight belly woes.
It seems like symmetry/balance is the real motivator to my madness (being a Libra, I guess it’s just meant to be) and come to think of it this would also fit the M.O. behind my recent haircutting massacre mishap.
I believe this post proves that I am not only OCD but, quite possibly, ADD considering I began discussing one thing and ended with another without really concluding either thought effectively.
Both (me) and this post are a mess.
I’m starting to think of it as less of a negative and more of an asset/major part of my charm.
Yeah, that’s it…