12 January 2008

eres un tiquis miquis

My obsessive-compulsive nature befuddles even me most of the time. It’s funny to have a part of my personality that I can’t make much rational sense of. But what can I say? Sometimes… thankfully less + less as I come to know myself better… my need for order steps in as my major driving force. Suddenly she’s the biggest, ugliest passenger in the late-model, fuel-guzzling car that is my brain… + she’s leapt into the front seat to take control of the wheel!

Case in point – I’ve got a pretty busy day lined up. I have to fit in a couple of hours work in the Gong (boo) before heading up to Sydney to catch an old uni friend for a drink + then see Sufjan Stevens with Mewi (yay). I’ve had a mini sleep-in + enjoyed a slowish start to the day, whilst being conscious that there’s lots to do + not that much time in which to do it. In the midst of making my morning cuppa I was hit by the sudden compulsive ‘need’ to clean the dishwasher. I could put up with its crusty residue not one second longer, in spite of having endured it for six months so far. So all deadlines + constraints are thrown to one side while I take time out to scrub the dishwasher. What a dork!

The happy side of this story is that – believe it or not – there are lots of other people out there battling the dark side + I know I’m not alone. I also know I’m on the sane end of OCD + lucky enough not to be a hand-washer or oven-checker. Plenty of us contend with a minor anal-retentive streak in some dimension of our lives, + learn to live with that in a way that doesn’t impair our existences too badly. Other people are completely controlled by a bigger, scarier streak. I suspect it’s a pretty fine line between the two, but I’m happy to be on my side of the line.

It’s a bit rough to be subjecting y’all to stories about anal streaks this early in the morning – sorry! But it’s also funny to think about how the word ‘anal’ has entered into contemporary vernacular + all the meanings this word has taken on. I have fond memories of discussing retentive tendencies with a group of girlfriends, somewhere quite public, + one of them calling out “Anal? I love anal!” to much general hilarity. You gotta watch those words!

I had to laugh when Bec sent me her latest Spanish catchphrase yesterday, translated as you are anal. Yes I am! But hey, I’m learning to deal. Now! Back to the day’s schedule. Better just check that I locked the door behind me ;)

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