You walk into a public restroom. The door closes behind you. Within seconds you discover the there is no toilet paper. No paper towels. No soap. You think of the people who came before you. You start to cry and then remember you carry extra tissue in your carry bag for emergencies just like this:)
I am a returning officer for my constituency, which includes the east side of downtown Edmonton. While going around to check on some "map questions," I had to use a washroom in a gas station. There was a sign stating that the soap, towels, etc. had been removed because of constant theft!
Three verifiable things about me. One. I am an only child. The concept of sharing, therefore, is foreign to me. Two. I am a Virgo. The sign regarded as a perfectionist. Three. My mother raised me to be meticulously clean; compulsively tidy. According to my mother, "You have taken this clean thing way too far." I disagree. Apologies to my mother.
Nature or nurture? Who knows? Who cares? I have not been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Nor would I label myself a Cleanaholic. Or a Germaphobe. My world though, is definitely a unique place. One where doors open magically. Hotel mattresses are pristine. And estheticians never double dip.
I live in this world without a bubble or a honeycomb mask. About 15 years ago I got tired of catching the flu du jour and became ever more so hygienically vigilant -- perhaps obsessively so.
I am a returning officer for my constituency, which includes the east side of downtown Edmonton. While going around to check on some "map questions," I had to use a washroom in a gas station. There was a sign stating that the soap, towels, etc. had been removed because of constant theft!
ReplyDeleteA well-intentioned thief?
ReplyDelete