Wednesday 6 August 2008

(1) I make lists.

No, I make a lot of lists. At any given moment, I have five lists at the office, two on the refrigerator, eight in Google Docs, and eleven in my PDA. (This, among many other gems, comes from the list labeled Horses: "In the Belmont, bet on all Nick Zito long-shots to win. And I mean ALL.") So, naturally, when contemplating showing you all my neuroses, I started with a list.

And boy howdy, was that list long. Like, so long.* It was so long, in fact, that I got all self-conscious (5) and decided not to post it after all for fear that I might scare you off (1492) and then you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore. And if there's one thing in this world that I want, it's to be your friend (851).

Oh, sure, I could limit this post to the detailed discussion of just a single one of my many neuroses, but the fact of the matter is that I wouldn't know which one to pick, so debilitatingly indecisive I am (324). I could talk about how I need the branches on my sheets to be pointing towards the head of the bed so that it looks like they're growing from the foot (27), or I could talk about how the milk needs to be in the back right-hand corner of the second shelf in the fridge (61). I could even talk about how every morning I follow the same shampoo-conditioner-shave-body wash-face wash-rinse conditioner routine in the shower (125). Small potatoes, all.

I could take the easy way out and show you my obsessive compulsion to document the growth of my Aerogarden (982):











But I'm already worried about how often I seem to take the easy way out (33). I could challenge you to also start off every morning with WaPo's daily crossword (3) and sudoku (460). Heck, I could go on for days about how I won't eat an omelet unless my boyfriend is the one who cooked it (665). But I won't do any of that. Instead, I'll tell you a story (124).

Halfway through my second year of law school, my crazy ex-roommate gave me a week's notice that she had gone certifiable and was moving back in with her parents. This week's notice was in the middle of finals. And our lease was month-to-month. So I had a week in the middle of finals to either find a new roommate or find a new place to live, and I ended up last minute finding a new place to live: I moved in with two very messy boys.

Long story short, I'm a lot better than I used to be.





* TWSS (759).

No comments: