My friend CeeCee is. OCD that is. OCD to the point that she puts her electrical cords in labeled clear Sterilite boxes with white lids. All Sterilite boxes in her house must have the same color handles. If Sterilite changes the type, shape, texture, or smell of any of the handles, then all handles must be replaced and she will exert tremendous amounts of time and energy to get 98 pair of matching handles from Wally World, when and if Wally World gets them in. This could require 196 separate trips to Wally Worlds around the state. She doesn’t purchase new handles. She takes the old handles from home, and exchanges them for the new color unbeknownst to the employees at Wally World. I didn’t know handles change, came in different colors, and wouldn’t care if I did know. A box is a box is a box to me.
CeeCee stood here this morning telling me how she had to scrub the Sterilite boxes with those Mr. Clean scrubby pads to get the white stuff from the inside and the black stuff from the tops. I am not familiar with either of these self-appearing substances. She swears they exist. She also has to wipe down, from end to end, each cord, then secure it with some magical cord wrapper upper thing that can only be gotten from Wally World, when and if Wally World deems they need more of them. All of this makes CeeCee quite insane. It makes me fall out of my chair in hysterics. I have to hunt for cords to charge my devices, many times pitching a hissy fit because I can’t find said cord. The rule of cords is – they are not interchangeable.
CeeCee always washes her washing machine, daily I think. My washing machine gets washed with whatever gets put in there to get washed. I also freely confess I have not vacuumed my dryer vent hose thing since the dryer was put in the house 39 years ago, or there about.
CeeCee’s shoes are in Sterilite shoe boxes after they are wrapped in white tissue paper for winter, pink tissue paper for summer, light blue for slides, wine for gala shoes, and dark pink for heels but closed toes. Athletic shoes are relegated to a multi-compartment holder. Purses are wrapped in white tissue paper then sorted according to size, use, color, closure, time of year, pollen count, material, stitching, toe nail color, and number of orange cones on the street at the time. She labels the shoe boxes by printing on Avery business cards, laminates them, puts them in a corner punch so the corners are round, then sticks the cards them to the box after Velcro has been applied to both the box and the card. My shoes quite often make it to the closet. Just as many times they don’t. I sleep just fine knowing this.
CeeCee tells me she has paper towels covering her milk in the refrigerator. I didn’t ask why. She also has paper towels under things in case they spill themselves. My refrigerator leaks at will. When it leaks over on to the floor, I clean up the mess. As long as it’s inside the refrigerator, it should be fine. Refrigeration has been known to prevent a lot of things. Besides, jam on a shelf keeps other things from tipping over.
CeeCee hangs her clothes up before they dry. I suspect she may be drying them while hanging but I can’t prove it. She then spends hours ironing or steaming or doing something to remove wrinkles. I believe that’s the words she uses. I only worry about creases and wrinkles on my face. I spend tons of to prevent those but have not yet resorted to ironing or steaming them. I might try it next.
This type of organization makes me ill and that’s not funny. I would worry myself sick that I might mess something up if I had to live in an organized world. I am a mess and just short of being featured on that hoarding show.
I love my friend CeeCee and love even more when she shares these things with me. It’s good for my oxygen supply. She should come with a warning though. Something to the effect of ‘Depends Required Before Listening’. I should know. I now have to wash my washing machine.
From the life and mind of: Wanda M. Argersinger
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