It almost seems fashionable to be ‘a little bit OCD’ these days. To put the record straight (because even a little bit wonky is WRONG) I’m not OCD.
There are certain things I like, and I like them in certain ways. But I can leave the house if a picture isn’t hung straight.
I don’t need to check the locks 13 times before leaving the house.
I actually quite like the fact that the phone hung on the wall somehow always manages to make itself a little bit wonky.
I revel in the fact that when my flat mate isn’t in the house, I can have the volume on the TV on an odd number.
I don’t have a tea ritual, but I do have a tea routine, and I take comfort in it.
I drink one in the morning, one in the afternoon. At the same time I get another one of my colleagues a drink. She doesn’t actually work in our area of the business anymore, and some days I don’t even see her, but twice a day I leave a drink on her desk.
The routine has evolved over the years, but it has changed, continues to change, and will change again in the future.
I take comfort in the routine, I enjoy the routine, but I also enjoy the excitement of spontaneity – as long as I’m given twenty-four hours notice.
Sometimes, I don’t go for my two o’clock tea until two-thirty. Excitements.
I do not have OCD. I have no rituals of any sort.
But it DOES really, really bother me that the flat mate seems to dig for dinosaur bones in the butter.
Seriously, what kind of animal can leave the tub of butter in that state and not be bothered by it?
Prompt: What’s your [insert beverage of choice] ritual?
Ramblings of a(nother) Frustrated Writer 