Neat Freak

Neat freak. Germ-a-phobe. O.C.D. Yes, I am all these things. Not in a crazy-Pam-should-be-put-in-a-straight-jacket kind of way. In fact, if you and I have any kind of interaction, you might not even know this about me. I do, however, encompass all of those traits, I just fly a little bit under the radar. Well, I guess not after this blog.

I feel like the neat freak is probably the most obvious. Growing up, I think my mom asked me to clean my room once or twice -in my life- unlike my sister who was asked almost every week and then would need a bulldozer and a few gallons of Mr. Clean to even put a dent in the room. As an adult, my house is always clean and things are neatly organized and probably labeled. I am a big labeler. Love it. When I was in high school, we had a New Years Eve party and someone brought over bubble containers in the shape of champagne bottles. I had a friend ask me when the night was over if I would put it in my box labeled "Champagne Bubbles." I thought it was funny and also realized that my friends noticed my weird neatness.

Troy does seem to appreciate it and quite possibly exploit it at times. He is what we neat freaks call "Messy" and leaves his clothes, shoes, etc. everywhere. One time I was so annoyed that his dirty clothes kept missing the laundry basket, that I told him I would not wash anything that didn't make it into the basket. Troy laughed and bet that I wouldn't be able to stand not picking the clothes up off the floor and thought I would waiver before he did . . . to be honest, I kinda thought that too, but I faked my self-confidence, looked him in the eye and told him that I was as serious as a heart attack. The laundry feud only lasted about three days and you better believe those clothes haunted my dreams for those nights that they slept on the floor. Finally, Troy put them in the basket . . . and not a moment too soon.

My sister likes to "test" the neatness. Growing up, she would leave things out in the open, like an empty pop can or a wrapper, and see how long it would take for me to throw it away. Now, she comes over to our house and will rearrange things. I have these shells in my bathroom and she will move them around, wondering if I will notice. Of course I notice. I am the Yoda of Neatness.

I am also a slight to moderate germ-a-phobe. I am always fearful that I am going to catch someone's cold or something worse. The H1N1 scare, literally scared the heck out of me. I washed my hands so often during the day, they got chapped. Whenever I am around someone who I know is sick, I always breathe through my nose. This is especially true when I am flying. I can't stand to think about how we are all breathing in recycled air. **Side Note: I really want to buy one of those portable air filters that the sell in Sky Mall.** I also wash my hands a lot, especially since I work with kids. I love it when they sneeze right in my face. Thanks a lot Little Timmy, I'll be sure to return the favor after your sick-o germs start fighting my white blood cells and I hock a lugee on your desk.

Finally, I am pretty sure I have obsessive compulsive tendencies. This is obvious in the bathroom. For example, when I shower, I have a system. Shampoo hair, rinse, Massage in conditioner, wash face, shave legs, wash body - with a loofah, this is important to a good clean - then I rinse the conditioner off. This is the same routine I do every night. Consequently, I also have a routine when it comes to drying off. Dry off face first, then right leg, starting at the ankle, followed by the left leg, left arm, right arm, midsection, back then I wrap my hair up in a turban. Bada boom, bada bing. One time, I had scraped up my knee pretty bad, so I had to alter my drying off process. It totally threw me off and I completely forgot to dry my arms. What the heck is wrong with me? Who forgets to dry their arms? Weirdos like me who have systems when it comes to drying, that's who.

I have been doing some reflecting and I am pretty sure that some of these tendencies are genetic and I definitely get them from my dad. He is also a neat freak, constantly coming up behind my mom and sister picking things up and putting them "away." It's kinda funny because it drives my mom crazy because then she can't find anything he has put away. Hmm . . . I seem to recall Troy mentioning something similar to that effect when I put things "away." My dad is also a germ-a-phobe. Sometimes Laura and I would visit him at his office and when he would leave the room, Laura would lick the phone receiver. Then when my dad would come back in, she would sweetly look at my dad and say, "I licked something in your office." At this point, I have usually fallen off my chair because I am laughing so hard I have lost motor functions. My dad in the meantime has dashed off to his stash of Clorox Wipes (which he probably kept for this reason because this was a game Laura would play often) and frantically start wiping down all the surfaces in his office. I thought about this earlier today and actually laughed out loud. I am laughing right now just thinking about it.

I really shouldn't make fun of my dad though, after all, I am his protogé when it comes matters of OCD. This might be a great time to do a shout-out to all my Neat Freaks, Germ-a-phobes, and OCD friends. For those of you who are not like us, you know . . . messy, sloppy, non-hand-washing friends, please try to understand that we can't help it. We were born with these tendencies, so don't be offended when I take your plate out of the dishwasher, rinse it off and put it in the correct spot. (Yes, I do that.) And don't take it personally when you are helping me out with the wash and then when you're not looking I refold the laundry. (Yes, I have done that too.) I appreciate your help, but what I would really like for you to do is go wash your hands with the antibacterial soap I have in the bathroom and put a coaster under your cold beverage which has condensation running down the glass and onto my polished coffee table.

So much for flying under the radar now . . .