Spring Cleaning and OCD

It's spring cleaning time here in the shittiest house on the Hill, and time for all of my insanity to come to light. I'm starting with my bedroom, as it's easier to obsess over one's own mess than that of other people.

I just washed my sheets, and as I finished making the bed, I realized that the top sheet was upside-down. I decided to throw caution (and my slight OCD tendencies) to the wind and let it be. The question now remains: How long before I go insane and rip the sheets off of the bed?

If I don't just forget about it (something that I hoping and praying will happen), then I give it three days. Not that it matters - our dryer sucks so hard that my sheets stay permanently wrinkled, even after being on the bed for a week. I once ironed the top sheet while it was still on my bed, and when the wrinkles didn't disappear, I cried.

Am I really that ridiculous?

(Yes.)

(And may have also been PMSing slightly.)

(Okay, more than slightly.)

I recently completed and addressed fifteen invitations for a friend's bridal shower. It's a good thing that I had extras, because I screwed up about seven times. And by "screwed up," I mean that my cursive got the best of me and I didn't like the way that the capital "M" looked.

(Really.)

In middle school (and high school to some extent - you know, that mystical time before computers?), I remember writing out page-long homework assignments, before forcing myself to scribble out a single mistake at the very bottom of the page. If I had time? I re-wrote the entire thing. If not? I felt awful handing in something so messy.

Lord.

Even at work, when I compose my weekly to-do list on a fucking POST-IT, I'll rewrite the damn thing if there's a slight misspelling or if it isn't written nicely enough. This is a POST-IT that I stick to my monitor and then draw a line through the tasks as they are completed.

I think that it's better that I can admit to the crazy and just get on with it all.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.