I've been a productive maniac today/night. Got some Holiday shopping done, had a good day at work, coffee and desert with friends and some pretty intense Christmas card-ing.
I don't understand my OCDness. Where the eff does it come from and why is it not on more useful things? Why can't I be OCD about how my hair looks or about how clean my desk is? I find myself obsessing about stuff like Christmas cards and it's completely beyond my comprehension. Why should I spend my precious time and energy planning who's getting which card, looking up postal codes, which pen I'm going to use on which color of envelope and organizing them over and over in the box by size/destination/mailing date when clearly anything else in the world would make more sense to occupy my Saturday night? Beats the crap outta me.
The worst part I think is that I'm aware of what I'm doing. I can perfectly picture myself pulling out the cards that I'm done signing and addressing and labeling telling myself I could bring them to work tomorrow and drop them at the post office. Then thinking "It's way too early! I should wait." then putting them back in the front of the box... no the back... the front was better. I then decided to match each card with it's envelope to make it easier in case I'm in a hurry (what for? it's not like I have a life or anything...) and need a quick fix. Once all the sorting is done, I pick up the ready-to-go pile again and think "Is it really too early to mail them now?" ... decide I'm being ridiculous and put them to the back of the box... wait, I decided the front before... ... I mustn't have been thinking because it makes much more sense at the back of the box.
Seriously!? Why do these things matter? *ugh*
Yes, ladies and gents: It is 4:03am and I can't get a wink of sleep. I'm done with the cards for tonight, so I start reading in the hopes of falling asleep soon. That's when I hear the faint sounds of a kitty going *haaaack-rhaaaaaaack-haaaack*... I give it a couple of seconds... *haaaaack-rhaaaaaack-haaaaraaa......aaack* You know what that pause was right!? The damned hair-ball finally landing on my floor someplace... Great. Shinning with uncontrollable joy and glee, I now have to scavenge the apartment looking for a wee pile of cat-juice. I very carefully make my way to the living room, looking very intently at the floor making sure I don't step in it... and Jack follows me with this look of "Sowwy mummy!" on his face... I'd pet him but he smells. I'm such a loving person. Voila! Right there, right split in the middle of the living room on what looks like face cloth fresh out of the laundry basket, a still-warm little tuft of fur covered in goo slowly seeping into the cracks in the hardwood. Smells delish.
So here I am now, washed hands and all, trying to get back in a sleep mode but it's just not happening and I thought I should share this moment of grossness.
This is what a Saturday night in the life of me is. Humming "Smelly cat" while I organize my hair clips in order of size and color... or maybe strength and durability would be more functional!? *twitch*
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