OCD can be a good thing

15 11 2009

Oh, how I love some of my obsessive compulsive habits.

Sure, most people would think I am crazy because I actually like cleaning; they would also find me to be one figurine short of a collector’s set due to the fact that I have a way of remembering exact dates, occurrences, and what people were wearing. Yet when it comes to my obsession over deadlines, I strongly believe that others would wish to be as organized as myself.

Yesterday, my Significant Other and I went to buy potting soil and new containers for the plants he keeps on his apartment’s balcony. While we were there, I took the liberty of procuring a smart, solid pot and saucer for Daniel and Annel. Now, you might remember Daniel from my entry “Why I LOVE Dr Daniel Roux”. Not only was he one of my lecturers at university, but also my supervisor for my research essay (a large, stress-inducing chunk of my Honours year). He and his wife are moving into a new house, and deemed it fit – for reasons unknown – to invite me to their housewarming (being held next Saturday). Which is why I bought a sturdy pot – my father is going to give me some of the plants he has been nurturing at home to present to them. Something nice and homey. After all, what says ‘home’ more than a potted plant? The plant aside, we bought them a nice bottle of Diemersfontein Pinotage, a rather good way in which to celebrate.

I spent the afternoon helping my older sister with her wedding planning (still on yesterday). She and her fiancé invited us over for a barbecue, so I made potato salad, some carrots in a sweet sugary-buttery sauce, and we bought sausage (not to mention taking some beer along for the men folk). Today, we did our Christmas shopping (yes, I know it’s mid-November), watched a 3D movie, and ordered my wedding dress… the dress ordered at least a YEAR in advance. Luckily, that’s one less worry I have come my wedding planning.

So sure, call me obsessive compulsive – I don’t particularly care. But I’d rather be safe, happy/ satisfied, and feel assured than be sorry later on. I’ll just stick to one of my new mini-mottos, which I read on a little garden sign (and also bought Daniel, because it seems fitting for someone who works in the English Department): “The deadline for complaints was Yesterday!”

Deadline

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