OCD of the Average Mind
January 6, 2011 Leave a comment
Did you ever have a moment where a very mundane detail catches your attention so completely? Ever wonder what you might look like to the casual observer? This moment I just had might have escaped my notice, had my husband not observed me and commented, “A random bagel?”
A strange question, yes. Let me rewind real quick. Anyone who dislikes a writer that sets up a setting, mood and such before coming to the point might want to just skip most of what I’m going to write since I’m going to use this opportunity to flex my writing muscles.
It’s about a quarter after eleven at night. My husband got home about half an hour ago and is playing his new basketball game, again. I’ve taken the decorations off our Christmas tree, but have not disassembled it yet. Boxes for gift wrapping, tree ornaments, lights, and miscellaneous Yuletide decorations sit in front of it, blocking the walkway mostly between the tree and the arm of the couch. My desk flanks the tree on one side, its back facing the tree. The love seat that matches the couch flanks it on the other side, it’s back also facing the tree. The only noise is the very realistic sounds of the announcer in the game and the rustle of tissue paper as I salvage scraps for later occasions. I’d like to say I’d use it all in gifts, but I have been known to use scraps for the odd craft, my most memorable being a large Easter Egg piñata one year.
Anyway, in the middle of this my husband asks very sweetly if I could possibly make him a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for him. Ofcorse I make them for him, making one for myself out of the leftover hills. For good measure I pull out a whole wheat mini bagel and make a PB&J mini bagel. After serving the sandwiches to my husband, I go back to sitting on the floor in the middle of the boxes and eat my sandwich.
Now you must know, that when I make a sandwich, any sandwich, I am nearly OCD when it comes to the position of the bread. If two slices were cut from each other the contents of the sandwich would go in the cut. It throws me off when I allow someone else to make my sandwich and the bread has been flipped on one side, turned or is in some way just not strait. I’ve started whole new loaves when I needed enough bread for two sandwiches and only had enough for one and a half. I’ve gotten better, but only since I realized I do this. I think it’s an aesthetic thing with me. Anyway, I can be the same with croissants, and yes bagels. You see where I’m getting at?
I looked down at my food, as I almost always have to, and was caught in this slightly neurotic behavior by the hole in my mini bagel. The top half was not aligned with the bottom. I flipped it several times before my husband made his comment. This, ofcorse caused me to realize exactly what I was doing, and I laughingly explained that the hole wasn’t aligned properly as I separated the two halves and corrected the aesthetic deformity.
It took me about a minute of contemplating how my husband might have interpreted my actions while I ate the PB& Bagel, before I dropped everything, scattered boxes and all, and wrote the amusing moment down before it faded from memory. But really, I do have to wonder what did my husband think when he saw me, probably scowling at a little bitty bagel and flipping it from top to bottom and back again several times? Probably best not to ask.