I know my OCD's getting out of hand...

when I spend a large part of my Saturday alphabetizing all of our books.

And maybe inputting said books into a spreadsheet.

not exactly how it looks... but you get the idea

Which felt great, in case you were wondering.

(Perhaps a real photo of said project will be forthcoming... if I don't get mocked too much, that is. He hee.)

I like nice doctors

So about a month ago, I called to schedule a doctor's appointment with a doctor that I hadn't been in to see before. Thus, I gave the girl on the phone all of the appropriate/pertinent info that was required, and was told that I had an appointment on Monday, October 27th at 11:00 am. And I, being the obsessive compulsive person that I am, confirmed the date AND the address TWICE. So I figured I was good to go.

Wrong.

I showed up at the doctor's office today to discover that no, they did not have my information, and no, I did not have an appointment.

Eesh.

This perturbed me greatly, seeing as how I had confirmed said appointment TWICE and had taken off work and driven to Bountiful and all that. (Not to mention had provided my social and other info that magically disappeared. Don't even THINK about trying to steal my identity peeps.)

Luckily, this doctor is a nice doctor. He agreed to see me anyway. And he was super nice and had a great nurse and didn't take too long. AND, he totes hooked me up with some samples so I wouldn't have to spend as much dinero on my prescription. Bless his heart.

I happen to like nice doctors. (Though this experience does compound my OCD just a little bit. I'll prob be calling the office next time to make sure I have an appointment. I'm a freak, what can I say?)

I love him

because he slices my apples for me in the morning because he knows I hate biting into them. (Four years of braces and three retainers will make you a little reticent to bite into things ok? Or maybe I'm just a little bit quirky and OCD... I think we all knew that already though.) And he knows that if he doesn't slice them, I'll just forget to take the apple in the first place.

OCD and what it's done to me

Since birth I have adopted little... habits, let's say. Not necessarily significant things, just little routines, practices, etc. that I always assumed every person did-- to some degree. I mean everybody counts how many cars are in a passing train, how many tiles are in the ceiling, or just how many things of a certain thing there are, right? And thinks the fringe of a rug must always be pristine, whether it be by hand or by vacuum, and that their closet must be color coded... correct?

Scared yet? That's just the icing on my very decadent, obsessive-compulsive cake.

I have an interesting obsession with the number four and the number one. For every four things I do on the left, I have to do one on the right... in sets of four. And then a set of a five and a two for good measure. Make sense? Didn't think so. I also have to set my alarm for a time ending in three or seven... don't know why it can't just be the one or the four... but yeah, and if I set my alarm and it doesn't "feel" right, I have to keep doing it until it does. My latest problem is the fact that I keep thinking that I have not unplugged my straightening iron (even if I can remember doing so) and have started to drive to work and have to go back to check it. (This has only happened two or three times, ok?)

Sufficiently creeped out yet?

Yes, I think it'd be fair to assume that I suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder. Which is fine with me; after all, I've known no different. I've only become aware of the freakishness of it all since high school, and thankfully college did a lot to alleviate some of my worst routines. (Maybe that's why I only got a 24% compulsive result on that "How OCD are you?" test I took last week... but then again, another one of those quizzes said that if I were an animal I'd be a platypus, even though anyone in their right mind knows I'd totally be a cheetah... or a gazelle...) I think the thing about OCD that has plagued me the most is my propensity to worry about EVERYTHING. I think I'm getting better (at least at faking it) but some days it drives me nuts. But, like everything else in life, it takes time. (And unlike OCD, patience is something I am oft times completely devoid of.)

In spite of the potential downside of these quirks, I think they're part of what makes me me. It gives me something to blog about. Because I'll tell you what, I am so sick of those Barbie-types that like to carry on like they have no skeletons in their closets. BOR-ING. Give me a Barbie-type who has something interesting to bring to the table, like narcolepsy or something. That's what makes each of us great. So yeah, you may view me a little differently after you read this post, but hey, I'm honest. And I know peeps like Kenna are just like me. So there you have it.