I used to wash my car by hand. Not any more.
- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
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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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2010
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August
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- Then I get this card.
- First I buy this book.
- My Garden of Eden.
- Where is your sink?
- Better than Touch Me And Die.
- A multiple choice question.
- We don't want this package to go missing.
- You will have to use your imagination.
- The other room.
- More glorious space.
- Meet the kitchen.
- My husband the hero.
- I have made a decision.
- The Devil Wears Prada. And Balenciaga?
- Onward.
- Smelling salts please.
- The things you do for your children.
- Tempting but tongless.
- Scooter pooch goes to market.
- Fish in rehab.
- Goats and pinkies.
- Goats and cheese.
- Horses up to no good.
- Dogs and sheep up to no good.
- Brother, can you spare a chair?
- Brother, can you spare a couch?
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August
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