Today I came home for lunch so that I could let the dog out and retrieve my forgotten cell phone. My friend Erin came over to eat at the house since she was working for me today. We were sitting at my kitchen bar when I felt the intense need to get up and clean the stove top. I was certain that she was noticing how bad it looked from Collin's boiled egg accident this weekend and I couldn't stand it. So there I was scrubbing away at my stainless steel while we talked about a radio contest she is trying to win. I probably looked like a complete idiot, but I just couldn't leave it alone.
I am very obviously obsessive compulsive. Not to the extent where I need to touch a doorknob eight times or wash my hands until I finish singing the alphabet, but I like things a particular way. This sometimes causes me issues...I'm known as difficult to work for because of it. I'm not mean about it, I just want things done a particular way. I figure I own the damn business, I should be able to have things the way I want them.
I've found that it also causes me serious social problems. I don't like people coming over to my house because I feel like it is never clean enough and I'm going to be judged by the dust bunny that may be hiding on my kitchen floor (I have three cats...there is bound to be hair). I also worried intensely about this when Erin came over today - the only saving grace is that I know she has two cats of her own.
I hate going out in public if I feel like my clothes aren't fitting just right, if the color looks wonky (I have difficulty wearing brown & yellow because I feel like they wash me out), or if my hair/makeup aren't looking up to par. I'll go, but I won't be happy about it. I've learned to avoid the brown items in my closet when I go to work. Nearly every member of my family is very well aware of the danger of a bad hair day for me. (Rule of thumb...if there's a graduation or wedding on said day, it will be a bad hair day.)
I enjoy being crafty and trying out new hobbies. But...the need for perfection tends to ruin that too. I have written poetry and short stories, but rarely share them because I'm afraid of what people think. I scrapbook regularly and use the photos of my pages on another blog. I get nervous about showing some layouts because they aren't perfect. Now I obsess over the photos of the layouts I use because I can't get them photographed from directly above so they aren't square - drives me crazy and I really need a large format scanner. Even this blog gives me slight ulcers because I just know that you are all judging my grammar and overzealous use of ellipses. (I LIKE them, okay?!) I try to just keep plugging along.
I worry a lot about what other people think of me. I wish I didn't. It really makes my job difficult. I hate when I feel like a patient doesn't like me and I get worried about what I did wrong when a patient leaves my practice (though most of the time it's either due to insurance or money concerns).
I try really hard not to let it get the best of me, but sometimes it just does. Collin is a complete extrovert who likes going out places and having people over so I've had to face a lot of this head on even though I'm not a fan. Maybe some day I'll get better about it. In the meantime, it will take me thirty minutes to write a short blog post because I'll revise it four times, I will obsess about the flatness of my hair or the darkness of my eyeliner and I will make excuses for the scrapbook pages I'm not happy with - even though they probably look just fine.
Now...if you'll excuse me - I need to go finish scrubbing that stove top...
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