i am neurotic.

I have this weird compulsion with nose touching. Anytime a person touches their nose, I have to touch mine. Once my friends held my arm down and huddled around me touching their noses. When I couldn’t touch mine, I started crying and hyperventilating.

When I eat a out of a pint of ice cream, the ice cream must remain level at all times. My hubby knows this and will reach over and dig a big spoonful right out of the middle just to watch me freak out! Then I must continue making it even before I can stop eating and put it away!

i cannot stand it when the switch on a plug is left on after the plug is removed. i feel like electricity is just seeping into the air and poisoning the people and the furniture. people often torment me by running around switching empty plug sockets on but i still tell people so they might start doing it too.

I can’t use silverware or plates and bowls in restaurants. When I eat out, I have to order “hand food” (sandwiches, nuggets, strips, anything I can eat with my hands). I also always order my food to go, even If I am with people and they are eating there…my friends have just accepted it and love taunting me with the fact that they are using the restaurant silverware and eating off of restaurant plates. I find it disgusting that they are using silverware that has been in thousands of peoples mouths, who have who knows what diseases and their own disgusting hygiene habits….same thing applies to the plates and bowls….all that saliva mixing with the food….Ick!

I have a rug in my bedroom which has long tassels on either end of it. These tassels have to be perfectly aligned and spaced apart from each other for me to be truly comfortable in the room. I even have a picture of my perfectly arranged rug on my phone that I glance at every now and again for its calming effects. My cat however, seems to live solely for the joy of waiting until I am not paying attention to leap onto the rug, claws deployed, and wrap himself in it. I have spent hours meticulously placing each tassel in its appropriate place, only to discover it bundled up with a cat underneath minutes later. I seek my revenge by exploiting some of his own neuroses, but those are for another post…

I need to be certain that the pocket clip on my pens aligns with the label on the barrel of the pen. With Pilot Precise pens, the clip must align with the blank spot on the label.

A friend discovered this neurosis and would borrow pens, write one or two words, and re-cap the pen… then hold it up and twist the cap to throw it out of alignment before handing it back.

Whenever I see an unfinished Rubik’s cube, I have to solve it at all costs. It just can’t sit there unsolved. My old roommate knew about this and would mix one up visibly and then hide it. It’d be on my mind for the rest of the day.  I curse the day I learned to solve that thing.