The War on OCD continues
I have now gone officially 7 days without vacuuming my apartment. I bought a new vacuum last week, was all set to use it, when I decided to just leave it in the box and see how long I can go without vacuuming. No swifter, no roomba, nothing. 7 days so far. Doc wants me to try for 10, so ok. Although, since I have to leave town for 4 days starting tomorrow, 10 days won't be hard to hit. The real challenge will to be going home after work and NOT cleaning, since I know I'm going away for a few days.
It's not like I enjoy this cleaning compulsion. I really don't. I spend a lot of my non-work time cleaning and dusting and thinking about cleaning. I keep a time log and after a week, it was down right scary how much time I spent. I'm not sure where it came from either. I wasn't like this in high school. Maybe it was the military and my first command's Captain. That guy did surprise inspections all the time, in addition to the twice a week field days. (Field day means you drop what you're doing and CLEAN.)
Actually, my shrink has a theory as to why I clean so much. It's about control. When Kate died, I went through a really rough spot. I also didn't get the proper help and attention I needed right away (it took about 6 months before my asking for help was answered, and then it was answered in a Very Bad Way). My shrink thinks that by cleaning, I can exert control over something. I don't like bossing people around, nor do I like being in charge of people. When you throw in the kind of women I used to date (dominating, abusive, etc.), it becomes more and more apparent that cleaning gives me the semblance of control over my environment.
It's an interesting theory, not sure how much I agree with it, but it does have some thought behind it. All I know is that I have to work on not being so anal about how clean the kitchen floor is, or that I get every last piece of dust on the bookshelf, and that the doorknobs are properly wiped down.
Back to work I go. At my very unorganized, cluttered, messy desk. I rule my house with a clean iron fist. My office space? I could care less. Another quirk of mine, I suppose.
It's not like I enjoy this cleaning compulsion. I really don't. I spend a lot of my non-work time cleaning and dusting and thinking about cleaning. I keep a time log and after a week, it was down right scary how much time I spent. I'm not sure where it came from either. I wasn't like this in high school. Maybe it was the military and my first command's Captain. That guy did surprise inspections all the time, in addition to the twice a week field days. (Field day means you drop what you're doing and CLEAN.)
Actually, my shrink has a theory as to why I clean so much. It's about control. When Kate died, I went through a really rough spot. I also didn't get the proper help and attention I needed right away (it took about 6 months before my asking for help was answered, and then it was answered in a Very Bad Way). My shrink thinks that by cleaning, I can exert control over something. I don't like bossing people around, nor do I like being in charge of people. When you throw in the kind of women I used to date (dominating, abusive, etc.), it becomes more and more apparent that cleaning gives me the semblance of control over my environment.
It's an interesting theory, not sure how much I agree with it, but it does have some thought behind it. All I know is that I have to work on not being so anal about how clean the kitchen floor is, or that I get every last piece of dust on the bookshelf, and that the doorknobs are properly wiped down.
Back to work I go. At my very unorganized, cluttered, messy desk. I rule my house with a clean iron fist. My office space? I could care less. Another quirk of mine, I suppose.