Meticulous Me

I have always known that I have been a bit meticulous which according to the online dictionary is-taking or showing extreme care about minute details; precise; thorough; finicky, fussy. I am only meticulous about certain things though. Take, for example, my hair. I am not meticulous about my hair. I hope I look presentable and what not and I really hope I am not getting stuck in a decade (at least not the 80's...man those were some beastly times). And it is not that I don't care, it is that I just don't have to have my hair perfectly placed, necessarily washed all the time, and every strand just right. Plus I am getting grey hair and I am plucking them. But then the buggers grow back all spindly like and I just keep on plucking. Forget coloring (at least right now) I am cheap! Plus I love wearing hats because then I don't really have to do my hair. See what I mean?

Now I am meticulous about my house. I think I have almost driven Zac to the brink. Here is the thing-we have closets and drawers for a reason. You put your stuff in them. You hide that crap. So when papers and pencils and phones and mail is strewn about all over the counter top, I get a little nutty. The one thing that sends me over the edge is shoes out in the open. And here is why. When I was in high school, I was the only kid left at home. I had the entire upstairs to myself and I settled in quite nice. I had been living my basically bachelorette life up in my pad for a few years when the dreaded call came. Roger my older brother was moving back home. Now I love my brother Roger don't even get me wrong there people...the thing about it was that Roger was moving to the upstairs which to this point had been my own place. I kept a tidy upstairs and I was already aware of my older brothers' 'habits'. So upon the first week of his arrival I was already plagued by the constant shoes and socks in the middle of the room. Every single day. Even when he was barefoot those freaking things showed up in the middle of the room. All he had to do was take 10 steps (I did count) and put them in his room. I don't care what happened in there but when the dang things are sitting in the main room staring me in the face as I watch a movie or play the guitar? No. NO! Anyway, I have a major deal now with shoes being out. Don't even get me started on the bathroom. How do guys miss is what I want to know. Are you balancing the checkbook or doing statistics homework? Seriously. Pay attention!

Anyway-I blame my mom for the way I am. She has brain washed me even though she will never admit it. It gets a bit crazy when you have limited space too. Man what I could do with one more drawer or one more closet. Why am I fantasizing about this? What the crap is going on with my life when I dream about having another drawer. Oh man....