June 4, 2010
by Jen
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Sometimes I like to compare myself to Monica Gellar from Friends. Friends is my favorite show (and Monica my favorite character up until Season 7 when she becomes incredibly over the top and shrill) and there are some very real similarities between myself and the character. Do I wake up each morning and scrub my kitchen floors with a cleaning product I’ve created myself? Heavens no. My bedroom has gradually morphed into a storage area for unwanted pieces of furniture and I’m just fine with that (provided I keep the door shut).
But if I’m to get ANY work done in my apartment, it MUST be clean. It’s impossible for me to sit and concentrate on a character’s journey through the world I have crafted if there are dishes in the sink, or dirty clothes on the floor. I can’t do it. Trust me, I’ve tried. My husband has said that he always knows when I have something important due because the apartment magically becomes immaculate.
It isn’t just cleaning. Oh no, that would be much too simple. It’s organization as well. I have a sixth sense that tells me when something in the apartment is out of place. It drives me insane when the back of the couch doesn’t line up with the hardwood floor and the coffee table isn’t exactly perpendicular to the rug. I don’t like wires or random pieces of paper. And the worst is when something isn’t in alphabetical order.
The best thing I ever did for my sanity was put my DVDs in clear plastic sleeves in a container under the coffee table. They used to be housed in their cases on shelves next the TV. Somehow, mysteriously, one of them would inevitably be moved out of place. Joe didn’t mind the first few years together when I’d get up to put the DVD back in its CORRECT spot. Maybe he thought it was endearing when I’d casually slide in front of the TV, straighten the rows of movies, clean them with a Clorox wipe, and tell them I only love them when they’re neat.
Here’s just an example of the anxiety:
WHY is Shrek 2 in front of Shrek 1? CLEARLY Shrek 1 should come first. It’s the first movie. It should be first, not Shrek 2. Even though I like Shrek 2 more, Shrek 1 should still be first. It’s the first. One. One comes before two. I should move it. No, Joe is sitting next to me. He’ll think I’m weird. Maybe he’ll go to the bathroom soon so I can move it. He has a small bladder. Come on Pepsi, do your job! Ugh, he’s not moving. Oh! I know…
“Hey hon, can you get me a drink? I’m parched.” I stick out my tongue to prove my dehydration.
“Okay, what do you want?”
“Whatever.” I smile and bat my eyelashes. He looks confused but gets up anyway.
Wait for it….wait for it. MOVE! With my quick ninja like skills I leap from the couch and remove that violator of organization from its wrongly placed position, tap all the movies in the row to make sure each is exactly in line with the next and sit down before he even notices. Success!
However, these instances became alarmingly more regular. I suspect foul play on the part of said “husband.” He’s crafty and he’ll do anything to get a good chuckle. Eventually, for sanity’s sake, I moved the DVDs to the plastic sleeves and all has been right in my apartment until a few days ago, when I rearranged.
My OCD forces me to constantly rearrange my furniture. Oftentimes I get incredibly bored with the layout so I concoct new arrangements. I even go so far as to create cutouts of possible designs.
(It also helps keep the place clean!) Go ahead, judge all you like, but it’s incredibly effective and sometimes, just plain fun. I’ll use any excuse to whip out markers and scissors since I’m not in 3rd grade anymore.

The problem with rearranging started when said “husband” broke one of my bookshelves. So what if it was a cheap bookshelf and filled with twice as many books as it was supposed to hold? I was now left with many displaced books.
I have a lot of books. A lot. And each book is meticulously sorted into “Jen” categories. I have over 100 art history books alone, each sorted by type, era, and then organized within those categories alphabetically. (I warned you.) What was a book lover to do with a broken book shelf? I cleaned the mess and decided to house the homeless books in a shelves that already exceeded their housing capacity and was forced not only lay them sideways but also stack them on shelves two, sometimes three, rows back.
Unfortunately, after completely rearranging the living space, cleaning both it, the kitchen, and the bathroom, I was too exhausted to worry about the books. Or at least, any normal person would have been. Instead, that night I laid awake thinking of the books only feet from me and my sleeping husband, trying to decide the best way to organize them first thing in the morning. When I eventually fell asleep, after convincing myself that organizing books at 2am was not the best course of action, I dreamed about organizing them. Yes, I dream cleaned.
Thankfully, I somewhat came to my senses. Or rather, sense forced me to hide my neurosis for the time being because with one book shelf missing, I found the furniture in the living area fit much more nicely together. Therefore, I was willing to make a sacrifice and pack up SOME of the unused books in crates and store them in the increasingly cluttered bedroom. I may also be forced to go on a “book diet.” Or, yuck, buy a Kindle.
What about you? Do you have any OCD habits? Wash your hands constantly? Always wear socks to bed? Is that just me?
I’ve heard from a few people that they have to have a clean area to write well, is this true for you?
Share your stories in the comments!