I like things organized. And clean. There's nothing wrong with having a specific order for things. Some people say I go a little bit too far. To the point of OCD. I don't know about all that.
I alphabetize my dvds, color coordinate my clothes in the closet. I organize my spices according to most frequently used. I polish my faucet daily, if not more often than that. Its silver and is suppose to be shiny. There just shouldn't be water spots on it. I don't like dust collecting on my baseboards.
None of this seems to be extreme. At least not to me. Definitely not OCD.
The best part about all this is that if you were to see me running around the house getting ready for work in the morning, the furthest adjective from your mind would be OCD. Its a nuthouse in the morning. I've got one shoe on and one sock. My hair is still wet. My lunch/snack typically gets left on the dining room table. The day would not start off right if I didn't spend at least five minutes looking for both my keys and my sunglasses. Every. Day. Seven days a week. I've been told to designate a certain location for both of these to insure that I don't lose them. Come home, put them in that location. Don't put them anywhere else.
I've tried that.
Oh yeah. There's a hook on the wall for the keys. There's a spot on my counter for the sunglasses. Do either ever end up in these locations? Never. That would be far too easy. Instead I find my keys between couch cushions, my sunglasses on a shelf in the bathroom. The craziest thing is that every morning I get frustrated over this. You would think that would be enough to make me hang up the keys when I get home. At the very least it should disqualify me from the OCD category.
