I like my coffee with a bit of warm crazy

Last night, I was having a conversation with a friend of mine and she asked me "How do you like your coffee?"

A normal person would be able to come up with a straight and relatively simple answer within seconds. I am not normal. I instantly knew exactly how I like my coffee... but the answer was far from simple.

Early morning, when I'm at home I like it with a bit of milk and sugar. I don't like heavy cream in the morning and I don't want too much milk because it makes it too cold too quick. I don't want too much sugar either, I enjoy sweets more later in the day.

At Starbucks or Second Cup, I like the raw sugar and milk - just because they have some and it's delicious. If the coffee's too strong or too bold, then I'll have cream instead. At Timmies, it's usually double-double. Unless we're in for a long car ride, then I'll take one cream, one sugar.

At work I'll have 2 sugars and one milk. It takes me ages to drink my coffee at work so a bit more sugar makes it taste better longer. Most time we have that coffee whitener thingy so I got used to not using a lot.

If I have a coffee after dinner or around dinner time at home I'll take it with just sugar - not quite sure why. If we're at the restaurant though, I'll add a milk in there.

Lattes are a whole other story but generally, skim milk - half sweet - no foam works best. Tea lattes are delicious with soy, no foam.

Yes, I'm OCD - mostly on little things like ordering coffee, organizing hair clips and other such random details.

I found a man who's learned to deal with it all - doesn't understand it, but puts up with it, bless his little soul.

Of labels and long haired cats...

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*

I need help... and a label maker.

I have issues. Issues with over doing things, over thinking things and over everything-ing things. Especially - over calling Jf with stupid questions.

Back story - What else is a girl to do on Saturday nights than try to decide between ordering return address stickers or a stamp for cheaper for her Holiday cards? Yes, you read that right. Stickers. Stamp. Cards. Saturday. Help.

Sometimes I feel like I have these teeny people sitting on my shoulders. On one side, there's a bra-burning little bitch (and I use the term with affection!) who refuses to bake muffins and speaks way too loudly when drunk. On the other side, there's a little Martha who enjoys a nice quiche and warm apple cider on a cold autumn day, she likes pretty things and says "nice" alot.

The little Martha says : "It would be nice to have return address labels made in time to put them on the Holiday cards." Seconds later, I'm on the web, looking at prices and calculating delivery times... That's usually when the little Bitch starts poking at my neck with a pitch fork : "Wait! Let me get this straight! You are going to spend money to get something made with your address on it knowing very well that it will change in the next year and that you will NEVER (hopefully!) live in Vanier again? Am I getting this right? PLUS, you would risk sending all your Holiday cards late and you know how some people just LIVE for your cards!" (My little Bitch is a sarcasta-whore!)

Torn! I will never use them again, but it'll be a cute way of remembering our first home together VS. being reasonable with my money and time and waiting for next year! *sigh*

Attempt at solving this #1 : Comparing prices, delays, pros and cons and doing as best I can to ignore the sharp burning stab in my neck and the smell of warm gingerbread cookies - icing and all. No deal.

Attempt at solving this #2 : Calling to the all mighty powers of logic and wisdom of my Gay! *hehehe-snort* What else is a gay to do on a Saturday night at 10:30pm than to help solve his hag with her OCD dilemma!? I had to repeat myself a couple of times just to make sure he got all my pros and cons (established during attempt #1 and probably listed and color coded) and could make a sound recommendation. "Won't a funky colored pen do?" -- Clearly, he hasn't been listening. LABELS. Mama wants labels. Something I can just stick and it'll be insta-pretty. Something that makes it look like I've prepared for this since July. Yes, ladies and gents, I love it when people know how much of a giant loser I am! (Why else would I be boring you to tears with this!?) ... ... (Still there? Ya? Okay!)

Revelation : THAT... right there... is why I likes me a homosexual man. He said he'd try to print me some at work if I figured out a way to email him what I liked. Why you people aren't allowed to reproduce is beyond me! The world would be so much more wonderful. Bad taste would be banned. Coffee shops would appear at every street corner! Reality TV would take over the entire planet. *wonderment*... I think we're getting somewhere!

See - over thinking. I need help.