This is why I dislike room service.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
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About me.
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.
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Blog Archive
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2011
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March
(24)
- Hygiene first.
- No way to greet the Canadian Hygiene Hunter.
- Other people's leftovers.
- A common Parisian sight.
- I also enjoy this smell.
- This smell I enjoy.
- Oh George V.
- The ever thoughtful George V.
- An almost poop free park.
- Not a buttery croissant.
- Refuge at the George V.
- Welcome to hell.
- This way to hell.
- Dear Paul
- Dislike.
- Like.
- Like.
- Dislike.
- Like.
- The culprit.
- The present.
- Something fresh before something heinous.
- A remedy for Jet Lag.
- An intruder.
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March
(24)
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