i can’t tell if i’m finally making a routine of my own (after 6 months of living here, i’d hope so) or if i’m just nuts. every day/night i have to do these things in a certain order. unless, of course, i have company or i’m not at my apartment, or something out of the ordinary is going on. but generally i spend my evenings alone so i am compulsive about my daily habits.
- as soon as i get home from work, i have to have my apartment key ready before i get out of the car. this irritates me.
- when i walk in the door, keys and sunglasses go on the shelf next to the door.
- water bottle has to be refilled and put in the refrigerator.
- make-up bag has to go back on the bathroom counter (i keep this with me because i’m even more compulsive about that, it’s bad).
- i take my shoes off and put them in my closet, hang up clothes that can be worn again, and put dirty clothes in hamper.
- i put on a pair of sweatpants and cozy t-shirt and socks.
- i let loki out, and simultaneously refill her food bowl while she’s outside.
- i dustbust kitty litter that loki has left in my bedroom (what dog doesn’t eat cat crap? i will never understand this, disgusting).
if i don’t do these things as soon as i get home, i get anxious. i can’t relax. it bugs the hell out of me.
same thing with when i prepare food–i have to clean the dishes i used to prepare the food before i can enjoy the food. because otherwise i won’t enjoy it. or i’ll just think about it while i’m eating and dread having to do it when i’m done (even though when i’m done, i have to clean those dishes, too). it makes no sense.
and before i go to bed or leave my apartment for a few days, my bed has to be made (i have to make it every morning before going to work, but if for some reason it isn’t made, i will think about coming home to it all weekend and get irritated). any laundry that i did must be hung up or folded and put where it’s supposed to go. the carpet has to be vacuumed. the blanket and pillows on the couch have to be in their respective places. otherwise, i will think about that all weekend too. and i’ll dread walking into my apartment and having to deal with it.
is anyone else like this? or to this extent? sometimes i don’t notice it until something interrupts me (like my laundry isn’t dry yet and i can’t hang it up before leaving, and then i’m all OH HELL NO) and other times, it drives me out of my damn mind.