Sunday, October 23, 2011

You Don't Have to Say It, My Therapist Is Already On The Line

I have this obsession, no, not just one, but let's focus here, shall we? I feel deeply satisfied and accomplished when I empty containers. If I can pull 5 leftovers out of the fridge, empty all of them and put the tupperware into the dishwasher it's very cathartic to me. For example, this morning, I made a big Sunday morning breakfast. Leaving just two lonely eggs in the carton bothered me quite deeply until I assured myself that Flash will eat them when he gets up (who am I kidding, that would involve work). I buttered my toast with the last remaining bit of butter left on the annoying butter dish we had mainly for WG's use. There's just enough jam left for one more piece of toast, so I will now surely encourage Flash for toast and eggs. I moved laundry to find we had used the last of the dryer sheets so that box can happily go into recycling. We have two open containers of cream cheese in the fridge but we're out of bagels, so now my mind races to ideas on how I can use the cream cheese up to get those containers out of the fridge.

I will do this obsessively all week long. Minimize, clean, organize, arrange. Until the weekend rolls around. And then, in an exclamatory proclamation I will shout, "How is it that we have nothing in this house to eat? The fridge is empty! There's nothing in here for a quick lunch! Where does all the food go?!"

Ah, yes, this may require more than one session with the counselor.

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