this is a very long-winded post about anal retentiveness and laundry.

see title. you have been warned.

anyway. close friends and family, had, at one point or another, gave up on whatever it was that they were trying to help me on because i am an analretentivebitchofafusspot who like things done (or be in) a certain way (MY way.).

normally, what happens is that they will shake their heads, sigh heavily, and comment exasperatedly that i am "more obsessive compulsive than Adrian Monk".

my usual response would be to give them the "oh well"-type shrug, maybe a bashful grin, maybe even an apologetic mumble of a "sorry." if i feel that i was being exceptionally over-bearing.

but really, i never thought much of it, until today.

today, i exceeded my own expectations. i am so anal retentive/obsessive compulsive, i succeeded in annoying even myself.

i am currently living most days of the week with my Aunty June and family, as i am doing my internship at The Star (things are great by the way, i am thoroughly enjoying my time there) and it is more convenient for me to go to work from here.

Aunty Myrna, the housekeeper, comes twice a week to clean-up and do the laundry, including the ironing.

now, i do my own laundry back home in Bukit Antarabangsa, which means i know where everything is (even though it doesn't seem like it since it looks a real mess).

but here, Aunty Myrna does them for me, and though i am very glad that she does (since i have no freaking time to even attempt to do it on my own), things get a bit crazy in the morning, especially when i am late for work and i have NO FREAKING CLUE WHERE ANYTHING IS.

but i bear with it. it's a small price to pay for clean laundry. but then some time last week, when i went back home during my off days, she rearranged my clothes so that they were colour-coded.

when i saw the new arrangement today, i freaked out. i freaked out even more when i couldn't find this brown turtleneck i wanted to wear even though i looked in what was supposed to be the brown pile (turns out she hung it up in an adjacent cupboard).

i swear it felt like i'd get a panic attack - it felt as if i've lost all semblance of control in my life - but i was so late i had to let it go, at least until i return home from work later that day.

the entire day, i couldn't concentrate. the press conference i attended hardly made sense since the only thing the minister seemed to be telling me is "YOUR CLOSET IS FUCKED UP."
while i was writing my news stories, my thoughts were along the line of, "The... my wardrobe! ministry has pleaded clemency to commute... my currently colour-coded clothes back into their original arrangement ...his death sentence to life imprisonment."

it seemed like an eternity before it was finally time for me to call it a day - and it felt like another lifetime before i got home (the traffic was terrible) - i literally ran into the building when i finally reached.

the first thing i did when i walked in the door was restore my clothes back into their original positions.

ps. btw, i am once again single, but mostly unavailable. no one would want to date me after reading this post anyway.