When I get anxious I notice that my house is super, duper clean. I have mostly wood floors, but I love the look of the lines on a freshly vacuumed carpet. The other night I was scrubbing the floor at midnight (I shit you not) and I said, "self, this is fucked up." I got up, dumped the water, washed my hands and sat down. I thought back to when I was Ms. Clean in the past. It was when I was a new nurse. The first night I was on the unit alone (after a 3 month preceptorship with other nurses), I had the worst stomach pains. I worked nights and I would go home and fire up that vacuum. I think it was the only thing I could control in my I'msonervousImightkillsomebody world. I became more confident and weaned myself from the vacuum. I can recall when I realized it was a problem. I was reading a psych consult in a patients chart and it said, "patient reports vacuuming at 0200 a.m." I was all, "what's wrong with that?"
I've started to have recurrent waitress nightmares. Ones where I go out and I been sat 10 tables at once, or when I have forgotten to take an extra side of salsa to the table and they are yelling at me. I haven't waited tables in almost 20 years and the shit still haunts me.
I joke about being obsessive compulsive, but I don't tap the door knob 3 times before I walk outside or scrub myself raw in the shower. It's just me and the Dyson. Notice how it resembles a crack pipe:
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