ocd

I don't like the number 5 for some reason. I think that reason is because I imagine five people and they have to split up into pairs. One person gets left out. Oh no! I don't like people being left out, hence I don't like the number 5.

I used to eat processed fat free cheese slices and four saltines everyday. I had a very specific way I'd eat them, too. In fact, I have a specific way I eat just about everything, from Subway sandwiches to ice cream cones to ice cubes. Everything has a pattern, everything is a ritual, everything is a sort of prayer (offered to whom?).

I gave up acting when I was in high school because I doubted that I'd ever be able to win an Academy Award. It was an Oscar or nothing. I still regret to this day that I gave up the one thing that brought me such unbelievable joy.

Whenever it's raining outside, I dare myself to try to step in between the raindrops, never once getting wet. I've yet to accept the dare, but when I do I know I'll be as dry as a bone.

Anytime I write by hand, I have to make sure I close the Os and the As and any of the other letters that could potentially be left open. If I leave a letter open, something might escape. But what? Happiness? Inspiration? Life?

While reading a book, I have to end on a page that ends in the number 4. And I have to make sure the paragraphs on the page when added up with the page number equal an even number. And I try to get as close to either 8 or 12 as I can. For example, if I end on page 64, I will read two more paragraphs so that I get the number 12. 6+4+2=12. Makes so much/no sense to me!

When it comes down to it, we all put our pants on one leg at a time. That is, unless our ritual says otherwise.