venting

Over the past year I have become more OCD than I could have possibly of dreamed. Not the OCD where people need help, but the kind where if I want something done it has to be done right away or I get upset.

Lately, I have been getting this sense of accomplishment when I wake up and shower before noon. Adding to this is cleaning up after myself and keeping a clean space. But with my sister living with me it is hard to keep my room cleaner than it already is. Seeing as most of the mess is her stuff commandeering my room. So with my room out of the question, I have managed to keep the bathroom clean cleaning up after myself and everywhere else I go. Yes, sometimes I may not do something right away. Like after family dinner and the mess in the kitchen is overwhelming me and I just want to sit for a while and digest.

With all that in mind, whenever my mom calls home or leaves a list of things to do (its never too many things for 3 people) I like to get them done earlier in the day so the rest of the day is mine.

Is that a bad thing? I didn't think so.

So today my mom calls and asks us to:

-water the plants

-do the dishes

-clean the counters

-vacuum the hardwood floors

Ooh! Scary! Yeah... not really.

Rachele, my sister, puts away the clean dishes. I did yell a little at her and I do feel bad. But when I want something clean, I REALLY WANT IT CLEAN.

As she did that, I watered the plants. I wanted to go outside anyways. You know? Everyone needs fresh air at some point during the day. Then I proceeded to load the dirty dishes, wash the pot and pan, put away everything on the counter, and disinfect. I even folded the blankets we messed up the night before watching Star Trek.

The job of cleaning is almost done. All my brother needed to do was vacuum the hardwood floors. I had asked him to do this as soon as I had gotten off the phone with my mom and he said no. So I was a little pissed. As I was saying before, the house was almost clean and instead of vacuuming, my brother makes a sandwich and eats outside. Finally, I can't take it. So I put away the bread he got out (which he says he found on the counter, when I remember putting it away before he came downstairs) and vacuum the floors. He gets all pissy saying, "Why can't you just wait until I'm done eating?"

He also calls me a liar, saying he found the bread on the counter and the only thing he had gotten out was the peanut butter. Oh Lord, I was about to snap. Yes, I did yell. But who the hell does he think he is telling me I didn't just put everything away.

I feel so much better getting this off my chest.