I have a few personal idiosyncrasies that I regard as “pet peeves”. But the Mrs. sees them for what they really are - manifestations of deep-seated insanity. Here’s a few examples…
Toilet Paper MUST be hung in such a way as the paper comes over the top and rests on the side of the roll away from the wall.
There are “left” and “right” socks, just like shoes.
“For every drop of water that cometh out from thine Britta Water Pitcher, and equal measure must be put in” (No exceptions)
I shrink all the baby’s clothes in the laundry - every time - but refuse to acknowledge same.
Am I the only one that clings to my Obsessive-Compulsive tendencies???
I’m all about the toilet paper one - that drives me CRAZY! Other than that, I think I’m just too much of a slob to care. My ex-bf thinks I’m obsessive-compulsive cause I go nuts if he lets the water drip in the faucette, I take my garbage out every other day even if it’s not full (who wants rotten food in the house?), and I can’t stand water on the bathroom floor. Is that nuts?
My friends think I’m crazy because as soon as the tea kettle starts making that roaring noise, I must go turn it off.
Toilet paper must hang over the front, with a little tail pulled down for next time. Same with paper towels. After I do the dishes, I must dry the area around the sink and dish drainer, and even in the sink, with paper towel. Even if I am about to use the faucet again anyway.
Products need to be lined up with their labels facing exactly forward, no matter how many tries it takes.
you’re all SO WRONG about the toilet paper! One must have the toilet paper cascade down the BACK of the roll,against the wall. Otherwise, the cats will unravel the whole thing and then you’ve got toilet paper that can no longer be used for it’s designated purpose. It’s just garbage after that…
I don’t brush my teeth until just before I walk out the door.
I accidentally followed the “sock-shoe, sock-shoe” dressing pattern the other day and had to start all over with the preferred “sock-sock, shoe-shoe” pattern.
I agree with everybody except ** Echo ** (sorry, ** Echo ** !) about the toilet paper. It should always hang from the top.
Also: - If clean laundry touches dirty laundry, the clean clothes have been contaminated, and are now DIRTY.
Here’s the biggie that makes people REALLY think I’m wacko: I talk to myself - and not just a few words, either - I have long, extended conversations with myself. Mostly when I’m alone, because I live all by myself and have no one else to talk to. But I sometimes slip up and have a little chat with myself in public places. Yeah, that’s embarrassing.
Kn(long live nuttiness!)ckers
Okay, how about this: whenever I find something, anything at all, even if it hasn’t been missing very long, I exclaim “You old African! Kunte Kinte, I found you!” Square biz.
I agree with Echo on the toilet paper. I am, however, a “sock-shoe” “sock-shoe” kind of girl.
Whenever I have a bunch of loose change in front of me I have to organize it in stacks according to the following protocol:
All heads up
All heads facing the same way
Earliest date on the bottom, building upwards to the most recent
Quarters on the bottom
Now that there are the special state quarters, I gather separate states together and then go alphabetically
Nickels next
Pennies
Finally dimes
I end up with towers of change all over the place, perfectly lined up and ready to be knocked over at any time.
I think we must all have our “things” - I line things up, all the time. Everything must be perfectly aligned and square; my plate centred on the placemat, my utensils centred around the plate, the napkin edge lined up with the edge of the placemat - you get the picture. It amuses me when I do this in restaurants - the table looks better when I’m finished eating than when we sat down! Don’t even talk about crooked pictures - I couldn’t sleep if there were a crooked picture anywhere near me.
My other disorders? Well, I’m also a tooth-sucker. I suck my teeth all the time. I try to do it so others can’t hear me, but it must look pretty weird, anyway. I’m also a nail cleaner and cuticle pusher - these probably are good compulsions, anyway.
(And the toilet paper roll must come over the top and hang down the front, the way God intended.)
When I am eating, there has to be an equal number of bites to everything. F’rinstance…if I have meat, rice and peas, then I have to finish every one of them at the same time. No leftover peas or rice. If that abomination happens, I have to add a little bit of what is lacking so it will all be eaten “evenly”. I almost alway manage to fix my plate so I never have to add anything (the adding to it makes me just as nuts) by eating like a bite of meat, then peas, then rice. And continue the circle.
I’ve been doing that since I was about eight. It’s aggravating, but I can’t help it.
I also cannot and will not drink with my meal. I wait until I’ve eaten everything then drink my tea or water. That particular little habit is one my grandmother got me hooked on.
Going barefooted makes me depressed and cold. The only time I am not wearing something (preferably shoes) on my feet is when I am in bed. And just to be contrary, I can not stand to have socks or anything on my feet in bed.
The toilet paper thing? Look. I don’t care if it’s on top, or rolls from behind, but for the love of all that is right and holy, put the damn thing ON the spindle and not on top of the toilet tank! If you can’t follow that one rule, then I will demostrate the meaning of the phrase “ass tampon” with said spindle. Grrrr…that sends me into a white hot fury!
Why yes, the meds are working just fine? Why do you ask?
Count me with the toilet-paper-over-the-top-and-in-front crowd.
Like SilkyThreat, I have a rule about symmetry in eating, but it’s not about organizing what’s on the plate. I used to be a “compartmental eater” (i.e., eat all of one thing, then shift to a different selection), and I used to drink nothing until the end when I would guzzle the entire beverage. I’m happy to report I have broken those habits. Now, though, I’m left with the biggie: Every bite must be chewed an equal number of times on each side of my mouth. Put in a bite, push it over to the molars on one side, chomp-chomp-chomp, then slide it over to the opposite side, chomp-chomp-chomp. Every time.
I also count stairs. Not because I care how many there are, exactly; no, I simply find myself mildly annoyed if there are an odd number. Most staircases have an even number of steps, but every now and then I come across one with an odd number, and I feel a small but unmistakable perturbation in my emotional well-being.
I do insist on alphabetized CD’s, which my former roommates took as a sign of anal-retentiveness. No, it’s not. I have a lot of money invested in my CD collection, and I want to find the CD I want to listen to without hunting through 2 250-count CD wallets. I also arrange my books by content (fiction/non-fiction, then genre/subject, then author) then by size, but this has sort of gone by the wayside. I’m getting sloppy in my old age.
Bread must be buttered evenly with it spread to all sides meeting the crust.
Books are organized by author, size, series etc. If there is no space for them on the bookshelf they must be piled upwards by size.
Papers are also organized by size, larger ones to the bottom small scraps on top.
Bottles of stuff in the bathroom must be organized by size, larger ones at the back small ones at the front with glass ones in the corner so they don’t fall.
Spice labels must face forward so I can find what spice I need without having to turn every bottle around.
YES!! Socks are right andleft unless they get holes. Then I toss the holey one and pair up with another matching sock (the benefits of buying the same socks all the time)
My husband does this. He counts stairs everywhere he goes. He can tell you how many stairs there are in any place we have lived or anyplace he has worked or visited. It greatly pains him when he discovers there are uneven numbers. I’ve seen him furrow his brow many a time when he had to go up our steps at our old house, because there were eleven. It drove him nuts.
He also counts ceiling and floor tiles. I hate to know he’s going to the doctor because he’ll come home and tell me how many floor/ceiling tiles there were (like I huddled in the corner, worried about this the whole time or something) and be proud of knowing it.
And he thinks I’m weird because I put on pants by sitting down and sticking both legs in at the same time. Sheesh!
You know, I wonder how many of us really do suffer from varying degrees of OCD and how many are just have weird ingrained habits.
All my clothes must face the same way on the hangers, and the hangers must all match. If I run out of hangers, the clean clothes I was going to hang go back into the laundry basket. Sock-sock, shoe shoe, otherwise I walk funny all day. Toilet paper over the roll. All decor in my home must be symmetrical, or easily perceived as such (like one large vase on one table, two smaller items of approximately the same mass as the one vase on the opposite table.) I count, too, but that’s not a consistent thing - except once I start, I sometimes can’t stop. When I use scissors, I have to open and close my mouth in rhythm with the blades (although I’ve learned to open and close just my teeth, leaving my actual lips closed, after getting too many funny looks.) CDs in alphabetical order, of course. I’m sure there’s more. They’ll come to me later.
My Windows Start > Programs menu is organized into several distinct categories, with a shortcut to most programs uncer a certain category. I HATE it when, after installation of a program, a whole new set of directories is created that doesn’t fit my hierarchy. For instance …
I meant to add … most people I know, when installing Windows shortcuts, let the shortcuts get created where they may. If they’ve got six shortcuts to FREE AOL!, no biggie in their mind. They see my clean desktop and organized Start menu as a bit anal, and more difficult to navigate than a cluttered mess of subdirectories and shortcuts to ads.