This post is not about cave-women and their preferred tokens of engagement, or even their methods of becoming engaged. It’s about:
Recessive Obsessive Compulsive (Kidding? I think not!) disorder.
ROCK, for short.
I just made that up. But I’ve got it. I think. I’m pretty sure. Well, what would you call it when…?
- You think about pulling your hair out, but seldom do it. Otherwise you’d be bald or at least really, really patchy up there.
- Small, pointy objects and ears. You just say no. But what made you think of it? WHAT?
- You get up once to check all the door’s are locked. Once. I said once.
- You don’t wonder if you left the stove on until you are halfway, or more, to a date with a summer blockbuster. You don’t go back home, but you wonder: will there be a smoking concrete shell where your house was when you do return, humming the theme song? Just to clarify: if you lived in an apartment, or in a wooden house in a neighborhood of wooden houses, or just in the woods, you would have gone back. You would have missed the movie. The stove would not have been on.
- Sometimes, after a meaty meal, you brush with both an electric and regular toothbrush, before flossing. Sometimes (chicken or fish), it’s just the one toothbrush and you don’t even floss. But you fret about it, once you’re cuddled up in bed. Just not enough to get up and do it.
Okay, maybe there is no such thing as ROCK. Maybe I’m just lazy. That’s it! I can’t even get Obsessive Compulsive Disorder right, cuz I’m just too damn lazy!
I wish everyone was too lazy to have OCD. I really do. Especially this guy: