I normally write poetry for these prompts. But today, I just don’t think I can be poetic with this topic. So here we go. (I’ll try to keep it short).
In a past blog, I wrote about being a child of an OCD parent. It was rough being so close to perfect. Nothing seemed to ever be finished, or if it was finished it was then time to so something else. I promised myself I would never live like that, because I would much rather enjoy my life than clean all the time. My bungalow could use a good Spring cleaning, but since it hasn’t stopped snowing here yet, I will get to it as soon as I get the first whiff of a hyacinth.
The other side of the coin is the IDGAF people. I don’t get them. The kind who hoard glasses, and bags full of trash in their rooms. They get new clothes, cut off the tags, and the tags stay where ever they fall. It’s not as bad as the show Hoarders, but if left uncorrected for too long it could possibly become a health hazard. I had this one neighbor who I called the “diaper can lady”. She had a baby and instead of putting the messy diaper in a plastic bag and walking it fifty feet to the dumpster, she bought one of those HUGE outdoor trashcans and stuck it on her porch. One summer there were so many flies around the can, the buzz sounded like it came out of a horror movie. I can’t even describe the smell. It makes me gag just writing this.
So after weighing my options, I’d rather be a little OCD than die in the bog of eternal stench.
Photo Credit sarahgignac.com
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