Unearthing my desk

Sorry to remain silent so long. Suffice it to say that the LH did surge, sex was had, hips were elevated, etc. Now I'm in the two-week wait, with three fresh First Responses sitting at home in their box, ready to be christened tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, I've been entertaining myself with various projects. On Monday, I got this email from my boss: "Hello Molly, So here is a bit of friendly advice: seriously organize your work area before your annual review that is coming up in a few weeks. Tom" Guess what I've been doing for the last three days?

Granted, it was SERIOUSLY in need of "organizing." I found stuff under the piles that hasn't been applicable to any part of my job since October of 2002. And I started here in August of 2002. So an "organization" was long overdue. I actually was quite lucky -- I didn't find a single thing that, having been left so long unattended, would have warranted immediate firing. Not bad. This is especially good since I work in a University department, and the documents I deal with daily affect people's education and, by extension, LIFE. Frightening.

My mother and I both have this problem -- leaving various piles of un-dealt-with junk in our wake wherever we go. My mother has always referred to it as "clean clutter." Mom has obsessive-compulsive disorder, and her obsession is cleanliness, but not in the way you'd think. She has an aversion to anything grimy, sticky, dusty, etc., but no problem with piles of mail, shoes left by the door, or towels hung crookedly.

A few examples of what I mean: 1) One of her big things is dust. To counteract dust, Mom covers board games, books, unused furniture, photo albums, and unfinished craft projects with dish towels. White ones, with little ducks doing laundry embroidered on them by some family matriarch. There are many of these snow-covered mountain ranges throughout our house; or 2) Mom is also concerned about the possibility of ant infestations - before anything goes into our recycling bin, it must be thoroughly washed out with dish soap and water. Also, all food garbage is kept separate from paper trash and packaged in an empty milk carton (notice I said "garbage" - which, to my mom, refers to food-based refuse, and "trash" - which is "clean" refuse).

Yup, she's still a bit nutty. Yet, she's been on Zoloft for about 15 years. I'm kind of glad that my childhood was spent semi-oblivious to her mental illness, or I probably would have gone nuts. I do remember one incident, however -- my sister and I were lying in bed, half-asleep, when we heard Mom bellow from downstairs, "Girls?! Who knocked over the rolls of toilet paper under the sink down here?!" Mom made us get out of bed to re-stack the toilet paper rolls. Memories.

Incidentally, all three of us are on Zoloft now. Small wonder.