Bitch on the Blog

September 27, 2013


Filed under: Gymnastics — bitchontheblog @ 22:43

I can bore with the rest of you:

Have discovered peculiar phenomenon. There is a corridor in this place linking all rooms as corridors do. About a year ago I deposited some storage boxes, nicely covered up in the most wonderful yellow cloth, narrowing the passage way. Frankly, it was a nuisance. But like with all nuisances I do get used to them. A few days ago the Angel dropped a hint. So I moved the boxes out of that particular way. It’s fascinating: The passage is clear yet when I walk it in the dark I still do that little swagger with my hips when squeezing past where boxes once were but are no more.

Have turned myself into a lab rat. Will report back as to how long it takes for brain to compute that there are NO boxes to negotiate any longer.

Hamster greetings from the wheel,




    • Can’t thank you enough, Ramana, for sending me this link. Not only because of content of the article but the pleasure of reading the concise and well written. There are so many pearls of wisdom in there. OCD being defined as “mental torture” made me smile.

      The first time I came across a true case of OCD was in my early twenties. I shared a hospital room with a woman, say, in her forties. I’d watch, being more and more fascinated, her ritual of incessantly washing her hands. It took me about two days to see the pattern she employed. Couldn’t believe people do live their lives like that. What was great about her that she was fully aware of what she was doing. Yet couldn’t help herself. She talked about it in such a lucid jokey way I nearly fell out of my bed laughing.

      I love the link the article’s author makes between anxiety and OCD. I suppose the closest I myself have come to display symptoms of OCD is what I call “the iron”. The number of times in my life I have set off on a trip (by car) only to turn round to check AGAIN whether I had actually, truly, finally, for the last time turned the iron off I do not wish to count on the fingers of both my hands. I’d need more fingers.The fear of burning the house down (and how to avoid it) instilled in me by my father when my parents left me in charge of my siblings (say they went out for an evening). I couldn’t bloody go to sleep till they were back. Not that they ever knew. No sooner did I hear that familiar car engine approaching I’d switch off all lights, jump into bed and pretend to be asleep as they were checking our rooms. Never told them. Not to this day. They’d be horrified at having caused me such anxiety. Interestingly (for me) that, by osmosis, the Angel will switch off anything electric, check and lock the door last thing at night, even when he has seen the bottom of many a beer. Fascinating. His maternal grandfather would be proud of him.

      Gay men (and this is by their assertion not any prejudice of mine) tend to be obsessive compulsive.Though I prefer to call it ‘fastidious’. But then so are most men in my life, blood related or not. To be continued…


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 29, 2013 @ 18:26 | Reply

  1. Another interesting thing is how our brain remembers exactly where the light switch is when we enter a dark room, and we put our finger on it instantly and unerringly. Well, I do anyway.

    Comment by nick — September 28, 2013 @ 08:28 | Reply

    • Same here, Nick. Which is why that nano second on waking in a hotel or guest bed room freaks me out. On a good night my host’s cat will pin me down purring the living daylights out of me.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 29, 2013 @ 18:16 | Reply

  2. I’ve practised, for a while now, changing things around a bit. I heard it improves and stretches older brains. Moving the jar of utensils in the kitchen, putting the toothbrush on the other side of the sink, etc.
    We are all such creatures of habit falling into the familiar unthinking grooves of humdrumity.

    Comment by wisewebwoman — September 29, 2013 @ 14:22 | Reply

    • Dear WWW, I have to hand it to you: At least you didn’t recommend doing cross words. I don’t mind cross words. It’s just they either bore or annoy me, mildly.

      The good news is it only took me a week to get used to a stumble free corridor. Instead I trip myself up somewhere else. You can’t beat life’s trickery.

      Your “unthinking grooves of humdrumity” enchanting and rather poetic. I shall follow your advice and hide my toothbrush. Should I come down with a spot of gum disease please do stand by for litigation (suing for damages),


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 29, 2013 @ 18:12 | Reply

  3. Another way in which you are “programmed,” U, seems to be that when you Angel “drops a hint,” you take action. Couldn’t he move the boxes? 😉 (Spoken by the mother of a son who would do the same, meaning he would observe something around the house he was quite capable of remedying if it bothered him, but he would bring it to my attention instead, as if I was the only one capable and responsible for “the cure.”)

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — September 30, 2013 @ 17:24 | Reply

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