Get Goose

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is defined as an anxiety disorder—characterized by recurrent thoughts, feelings, ideas or sensations (obsessions) or behaviors—that makes a person feel driven to perform (compulsions). A person may have both obsessions and compulsions.

I am told by many that I have mild OCD tendencies. And sometimes, I, myself, am willing to admit that a good dose of medication could probably help me out. There are many small examples I could share with you, like not being able to leave the house without the bed made, or straightening and re-straightening towels on a towel rack after someone has used them, or putting the newspaper into the recycling bin before my husband has had a chance to even glance at it.

Last night, though, I had an episode that clearly illustrates my supposed disorder. After checking email for a while, and posting on the blog, I hobbled downstairs to fold laundry. Keep in mind, it was going on 11pm and I have to be up by 5:23am in order to make it to Booty Camp on time, so I was feeling a bit rushed because I needed to get to bed.

After several minutes of leaning into the dryer, grabbing clothes, folding them, and putting them in the basket, I reached in to grab the last few items. A gray T-shirt and one miniature white sock. The key word here folks is “one.” One lonely, no mate in sight, miniature white baby sock.

Now, if I had to guess, I would say most people would just toss the sock into the basket and hope for the best. The “best” being the sock’s mate would show up three days later under the bed or something. If not, I’d venture to say those same people would go on living. That lone white sock would get pushed to the bottom of the drawer, never to be heard from or seen again. And the mate would be forgotten forever. Not even a guess as to what happened to it. Like, maybe tiny ants came and carried it away…a mattress for their queen. Or maybe some wild dust bunnies came and devoured it for lunch. Nope, no need for a reason. Most people would just keep on keepin’ on.

OCD gal, on the other hand, went into a complete tailspin. Let me retrace the steps for you here:

1. I madly searched through the inside of the dryer because I was certain the white sock was camouflaged in there.
2. I madly searched through the inside of the dryer again because I was certain I missed the cute little sock on my first search attempt.
3. I opened the lint filter. It’s a miniature sock after all, surely it was logged in the lint filter.
4. I shimmied the dryer away from the washer because that son-of-bit#% sock had to have accidentally fallen into the black hole between the two.
5. I unfolded every article of clothing I had just gotten done folding because that slippery little sucker was definitely hiding in between a pair of underwear somewhere.

And then, suddenly, lo and behold, there it was, sleeping peacefully at the bottom of the basket. Hal-le-lu-jah, hal-le-lu-jah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hal-le-eh-lu-jah!

You have no idea how joyous the occasion was. Who cared that it was past midnight and I was still awake? Who cared that I would be crying my eyes out in Boot Camp the next day from sleep deprivation and a total lack of energy? The miniature socks were reunited. Rejoice! My life would go on.

I gracefully folded those two beautiful little socks into a perfect little square and found my way to bed.

The end.

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