It’s official, I sure have a rampant case of obsessive compulsive disorder ( OCD ), and even though I look and sometimes sound a bit normal, I’m definitely not. Those who are exposed to my excessive behaviour normally placate me and allow me to run free without restraint. These well-meaning but deluded folk probably feel that letting me run like a pony through life will keep me calm, but alas I’m getting worse and I need reigning in. Maybe a swift kick in the ribs as well.
This tremblingly excited need I have for symmetry, alignment, perfection ( even though I hardly ever achieve it ) drives me to a knife-edge level of frustration when it doesn’t materialise. You would laugh at how silly it gets sometimes. You should see me trying to be a handyman, even though I strongly resist most of the time, sometimes I weaken and attempt a simple process only to find that I don’t have the temperament, skill, shirts, tools, desire or genetic make-up to complete this simple task.
Tantrums erupt, clothes become restrictive, tools fly, and so does the colourful language, and I don’t mean praising the warmth of the surroundings either. Foul, rude, crude, imaginative, multi-syllable, blasphemous, all with a full forced sputum retching engagement from a naughty OCD sufferer.
So what am I going to do? Well, how’s about I relax, leave the handyman shit alone, I’ll get a messy influence, oops – I have one of those in my beloved bride. So I’ll just keep myself under control, leave the friendly folk that support me without restraint to continue to do so, and I’ll learn to enjoy the tightening of my disorder as it constricts around my daily life.
Does anyone have the number of a home handyman helpful helper?
