Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Play-doh, OCD, and my sweater

My social life broadly consists of watching late night TV and turning down Mafia Wars friends. Speaking of odd social patterns, one of things that I've been afflicted with is being mildly OCD. I like going through certain routines in order to feel comfortable.

For example as through middle school and parts of high school would have to recite all of the teams in the NFL in (28 at the time) in alphabetical order by memory according to conference and division under 20 seconds before I would be able to sleep. It seemed perfectly normal to me until I couldn't take it anymore, tore down an poster next to my bed, and forced myself to try and sleep without saying my Pledge of Allegiance to the NFL.

On a similar note I was sitting at work when all of of sudden my grey sweater got blue Play-Doh all over it. Now I know what most of you are thinking, "Why do you have Play-Doh at your desk? Surely you were partially responsible for this?" And my answer, Nay. The Play-Doh attacked me. But that's neither here nor there. As I attemped to remove the blue goo it proceeded to get embedded deeper and deeper into the little sweater fibers and whatnot. So I began to panic. I went to the bathroom, doused the sleeve in warm water and rubbed handsoap all over it.

While doing so a thought popped into my head, "Why is it that no matter how nice your office is, the guys in the men's bathroom always exhibit the sanitation and hygiene prevalent in most stadium and train station bathrooms. It's ridiculous. You'd think people would act a bit more refined. But anyhoo

The more I rubbed the sweater the worse it got. And with that I returned to my desk and sulked. At this point the OCD kicked in. I would have to replace the sweater. Right away. That night. It simply was not acceptable to be without a half-zip extra fine gray merino sweater. So I went to Banana, found the sweater, asked the patented desi father question ("is there a discount on this?" while pointing at an item at full price) and walked out.

This is what I do. This is how I live with myself.

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