I have a bit of an OCD thing going. I think I got it from my mother but that might not be completely true. My mother likes things just so, but that’s not to say my father is a mess. He’s organized in his own way. My father likes to collect things and my mother likes to organize things. I got the combination of liking stuff that’s also well-organized.
But this post isn’t about collecting, it’s about things being in the “proper” place. And by proper or “right” place I mean the place I think it should be. The blinds all have to have the same relative angle. The counters need to be cleared of clutter and let’s not even get started on what my expectations are for a tidy pantry. Just take it on authority that I have a bit of an obsessive nature about me when it comes to things being in their proper place.
In 1994 I was ending my employment with IBM and had another job that was starting shortly afterwards. Instead of starting immediately though I scheduled a four week break between jobs with the plan to go to Manhattan and stay with a friend for a month and see the city.
I had a great time. He lived on Central Park West in a 200 square foot condo and I slept on his couch which at the time was comfortable. Thinking about living on a couch for a month at this point in my life with my cranky neck and spine makes me recoil in fear, but back then I was in a different place and it didn’t bother me one bit.
His parents were very gracious and lived a few blocks down the street in what I would call an opulent home for Manhattan. They had had a designer come in and decorate the place completely. The style was both modern and eclectic with flairs of colorful artwork and antlers thrown in for good measure. I spent a lot of time in the evenings at his parents house.
One day I came over and went into the den and noticed one of the doors to their custom made cabinetry had been left fully extended on its rollers. So I rolled it shut, that being how it was suppose to be when not in use.
Not five minutes later my friend’s father came in and was quite upset, wanting to know who in hell had closed that cabinet door? Oh dear. I said I had. He was immediately back to polite, realizing I didn’t know what I’d done. They’d had a repair man there for several hours trying to fix the tracking mechanism and had done some gluing that needed to dry and no one was suppose to touch it overnight while it dried.
I felt awful. But they were very nice about it, saying I didn’t know. My OCD got me in trouble that day. Thankfully they weren’t upset about it. Since that time I try to never let my need for order interfere when I’m in someone else’s home. Until now. But I handle it differently.
If I see drawers left open I ask if we can close them because I have a child that may or may not see them and drawers and cabinets are at the worst height to damage the face, body or possibly even the eyes of my low-vision daughter.
I hadn’t thought of that day until recently when I was in a friend’s house and had to ask about the drawers their children had left open as they slowly, and with multiple reminders to stay on task, put up the dishes.
The Big Boy Update: My son said to my husband today, “I feel bad for that grandpa sitting on the bench.” My husband asked why and was told, “because he’s old and getting weak and is going to die soon”. I’m not sure where he got this idea but my husband told him not to despair by saying, “you never know, he might live for another twenty years. Some people live to 110”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter helped me pick out some clothes for her and her brother at the used clothing store today. She said she wanted all green shirts so we looked at what they had available. She also said she wanted stripes. Tall order but I found one green shirt with rows of frill across the chest. She felt it and said, “look, the stripes are tactile!” Can you tell one of the words that’s important for blind people she hears all the time at school?
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