Tag Archives: ocd

time sensitive material

posted by:  audra

every fucking night when i’m about to pop some roofies & slip on my satin leopard print, i ask myself, ‘audra, why is it you waste so much time, you wasteful time-waster?  and how come you never, ever get anything accomplished, ever?!’ this has really been bothering me lately.  i never seem to have the “time” to clean the house, get more than one load of laundry done — let alone put said laundry away after it’s clean — and definitely never have time to do any sort of fat-burning activity.

…even though i used to come home & do so every night, as well as tidy up a spot, and manage to get to bed before midnight.

…and let it be noted that no, indeed, i have not resorted to drinking more.

i think it’s my new morning routine that has set me up for failure…?  when i had more of this luxury called time, i would get up promptly at 5 o’clock-ish on a weekday, shower, go about my business & actually make it to work on time without a trace of panic.  now, my alarm goes off at 5:20.  i turn it off & wait for sam to shower first & wait for him to wake me.  he does so sometimes at 5:20, if i’ve already turned the alarm off…then again at 5:30.  lately, it’s been the third (sometimes fourth) attempt at 5:40 (or 5:50) that gets me up…and it’s been a lethargic, dirty-housed downward spiral since.  makes sense, right?

i’m now on a personal mish to make more time for myself, so i can actually keep my household up, perhaps cook something during the week(!), and still have plenty of gooey makeout time with the television, a wine bottle & my chaise.

alright.  so.  get your fancy panties on!  better yet – take them off!  get comfortable.  it’s time for a day in the life of yours truly!  and just so we’re clear, of course, this is weekday stuff only.  but i shouldn’t have to tell you that.  in fact, we’ll just use today as an example for funsies.  indeed, what did i do today?  where does all my time go?  i’m dying to know…you are too…

  • 5:40 am:  currently my typical wake-time, but 20 minutes behind what’s ideal for my morning routine.
  • 5:41 am:  get in shower immediately.  since i’ve saved time by shaving the night before, i can be out in less than 10 minutes.  i’ve also decided to only shampoo my hair once a day, so i’ve shaved a couple of minutes off there, too.  score.  i do however, at least condition my hair in the morning.
  • 5:50 am:  smelling like peppermint, i’m out in 9 minutes.  that’s good, right?  normally i could probably do 5 minutes, but today was a struggle.
  • 5:51 am:  detangle hair, wrap in towel.  moisturize everything…face first, then extremities & special girl bits.
  • 5:55 am:  apply anti-persperant/deodorant.
  • 6:00 am:  jesus!  i’m starting to see where my time is going in the morning…it takes 10 minutes to put on moisturizer?!
  • 6:01 am:  start makeup ritual.  eyebrows always first.  then eye makeup.  base, shadow, liner, more shadow, then glue on lashes.
  • 6:15 am:  while lash glue sets, i blowdry my hair after applying product.
  • 6:20 am:  get coffee & prepare a lovely english muffin for breaky.
  • 6:30 am:  sit outside with coffee & ciggie.
  • 6:37 am:  check email & such.
  • 6:45 am:  heat up flat irons & continue the getting ready process — apply mascara, some foundation.
  • 6:50 am:  turn the dryer on from the night before if clothes need the wrinkles taken out of them.
  • 6:55 am:  straighten my hair.  it really only takes about 10 minutes from start to finish, but for some reason it always takes me longer when i’m in a hurry.  of course.
  • 7:15 am:  complete makeup — finishing powder, lippy, what-have-you.
  • 7:25 am:  attempt to get dressed.  even if i have laid out everything the night before, it never fails; i stuggle finding fishnets or my bra.  every.  time.
  • 7:31 am:  leave the house.
  • 8:10 am:  arrive at workplace.  there was traffic, so i was late.  beautiful.  one would think that 29 minutes is more than adequate time to drive 12 miles.
  • 5:46 pm:  arrive at le cuntington manor.  traffic was a fucking mess & i’ll keep quiet my bitching about bad driver stereotypes.
  • 5:47 pm:  take off my shiny manolos & notice that the heels need repairing already.  of course.
  • 5:47 pm:  bitch about traffic.  bitch about how hot it is.  bitch about the humidity.
  • 5:47 pm:  note how i’m sweating like a fat girl writing her first love letter.
  • 5:48 pm:  open beer.
  • 5:49 pm:  smoke outside with the mr.
  • 6:00 pm:  do a quick inventory & determine that we, in fact, do not need to go to the store like i’d originally planned.  yes!
  • 6:01 pm:  notice that i’m star-ving & perhaps should have a snack?  maybe early dinner?  maybe not, because then i’ll just be starving at 10:00 & drunk & then drunk-snack?
  • 6:05 pm:  elect a snack of salami & a sharp white cheddar.
  • 6:06 pm:  change into a long black chemise i wore several years ago when i was bettie page for halloween.  it’s too hot for yoga pants.
  • 6:16 pm:  check email & update blog.
  • 6:25 pm:  look at the tele (family guy), consider changing channels & then notice my hands are dry.  perhaps i could use a fresh coat of polish, too…?
  • 6:26 pm:  see what sam’s doing.  ‘is that freddie mercury?’ i ask.  ‘it’s about queen.’ he replies.  ‘even better’ (sarcastically).  i exit the room.
  • 6:31 pm:  reenter kitchen.  put away cheese & salami.  consider doing a load of laundry, but determine it’s too stuffy to do so.
  • 6:32 pm:  consider picking out an outfit for tomorrow, but determine i’m too sick of what’s in my closet to do so.
  • 6:33 pm:  pick at imaginary things on my back & think about what interesting things i could possibly do tonight to make this blog more exciting.
  • 6:35 pm:  save draft, fix a v & t with exxxtra lime, and retreat to the veranda to have a fag.  and a cigarette, too.
  • 6:59 pm:  decide to wear my standard uniform tomorrow; a black skirt, black top & whatever heels aren’t tore up from the floor up.
  • 7:01 pm:  start washing machine…with, my specialty:  5 items or less…which is ridiculous & obviously the reason as to why i’m forever doing laundry.
  • 7:03 pm:  settle into my chaise with the queen documentary on the bio channel & my july issue of nylon.
  • 7:05 pm:  i didn’t last long…in fact, i never “settled in” at all.  the documentary was boring & sam was reading a book.
  • 7:06 pm:  working on this retarded time-wasting blog…
  • 8:07 pm:  i’m done.  clearly, my dawdling/blogging/procrastinating are the culprits.  and possibly getting up late & spending too much time getting ready.

time elapsed: approximately 15 hours, give or take.  you’re welcome.

you see what i do for you guys?!  sigh…  and now i’m missing the david bowie bio.  thanks a lot, assholes.

good night, babies.  i do love you.

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ocd, a bad attitude & mid-year resolutions

posted by:  audra

in an attempt to start june off with a better attitude, i’ve made a little listy-loo for myself of things to accomplish this month.  as an added bonus, i’ll be including some of the stupider things i’ve done in recent memory…because we all love to hear about others’ failures.  sort of like a mid-year resolution list.  and anyway, we hate it when our friends become successful, right?  it’s true.  morrissey doesn’t lie!

what?  whatever.  okay, here we go:

*i will start working out.  even though it’s hot & i hate sweating, i am getting fat girl arms and it’s terrible.  i have also developed a built-in plate holder on my midsection.  gross.  i know i say it all the time, but things are getting out of control.

*i will not pull over on the side of a dusty gravel road out in the middle of nowhere & urinate on my kate spade flats.  again.

*i should stop smoking in the car.

*i will not order any more fruity, sugar-rimmed bitch drinks at the bar, just because they’re different from an extra-clean ketel martini.  i’ll stick with the big girl drinks.  thanks, but no thanks.

*next time i play pinochle with the parents, i’ll wear elbow pads to avoid any unsightly blistering.

*whilst cleaning out the car, i’ll remember that i wadded up two semi-sharp cheese knives in a zip-loc & stuck them in the glove box.  when i remember this, i’ll surely be able to not hastily grab the baggie, compact it down with my knee, & pierce a hole through my jeans & knee…then cutting the shit out of my fingertip.  also, note to self:  keep band-aids & bactine in the car.

*i’ll get drunk by myself more often & watch pretty in pink on repeat for several hours.  i haven’t done this in so long that i feel like i’m losing myself!

*i will not stop telling you all ‘i told you so’ when you fuck up.  because i’m right, you know i’m right, i’m always right, and knew i was right from the start.  i always look out for your best interests…and anyway, who loves you more than any of your other loser friends?!  me!  i do!  i love you!

*i’ll start being more honest about not liking slumdog millionaire.  i keep saying, ‘oh, it was good…not that great…i liked it alright.’  but i really didn’t like it!  it was annoying.  it seemed long.  it was a stupid love story.  it made me feel gross.  god, i need a rape-shower just thinking about it.

*i’ll keep making fun of our neighbor with the ocd tendencies:  flipping the patio light on & off a certain number of times, flicking the locks on her sliding glass door & window repeatedly before retiring to bed for the evening, talking to herself…it’s ridiculous.  shit drives me mad.  that bitch is crazy & desperately needs some meds.

*we will blog more often.  for realsies.  just like in the beginning…remember?

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omg, ocd & ptsd…

posted by: audra

so, i’ve been fretting & fretting about not feeling creative enough to even compose an email this past week.  seriously you guys, all this laying about & drinking has really put me through the wringer.  and speaking of wringing & fretting(!) i met my first ocd plagued person today!  like, a real one — totally howard hughesed out & everything!  i’m so proud.

it happened this morning at work.  a most lovely older woman stopped in & brought her son; michael i think was his name.  she introduced me, & i went to cordially shake his hand.  he started to extend his hand hesitantly, then hastily retracted it into a fist & said, “i’m ocd.  i don’t shake hands.”  thinking he may possibly be kidding, i giggled nervously.  he giggled nervously as well.  then he offered a fist-bump.  i accepted.

the crazy ones are always attracted to me, so we got to talking.  i would’ve guessed this fellow was in his mid to late thirties, but as he was talking about his son who just turned 18, & how he had been married for 19 years, i was taken aback.  “really?!  but you look so young!”  “i’m 47.”  oh yes.  you see, this is his first holiday season without his wife, because they are getting divorced.  it will be finalized on wednesday.  he seemed happy about this.   he asked me about my new year’s eve & such.  there was more small-talk.  then he felt he needed to fill me in on his ocd troubles.  the new meds seem to be working better, but…

“sometimes i need to wash my hands four or five times before leaving a bathroom!  i just have to.  there are germs everywhere!”

god, he would quail in disgust if he saw some of the loos i’ve frequented(!).   sometimes there’s not even the option of soap.  anyway, it doesn’t stop at the compulsive hand-washing with him; it’s counting steps, number of times he blinks, chews, all sorts of shit.  then he proceeded to explain how he suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder as well…and as he was explaining the ptsd stuff to me, i noticed his hands were all inky looking, but i didn’t want to stare.  it might give him another complex.  he was sort of wringing his hands, & must’ve noticed my glance linger on his dirty little digits.  apparently, he’s in the process of staining some cabinets at home & expressed to me that the stains on his hands are killing him.

“i scrub & scrub…it just won’t come off…”

why didn’t he wear gloves for the cabinet-staining project?  would it make him feel better if he just wore gloves all the time?   i know of someone who wears latex surgical gloves whenever boarding public transit, & she seems happy enough.

after much conversation, we said our goodbyes, the nice-to-meet-yous, engaged in a farewell fist-bump & he was gone.  i thought about this guy all day– in a good way.  he was quite nice, someone i would consider having a drink with perhaps.  and at least he had a sense of humor about the ocd, which makes me think he’s not just fabricating it for dramatic effect…but he also has just moved back in with mom, which just made me sad.  poor thing.  i got sucked into this episode of true life on mtv awhile back; the one where all these dumb kids living in crappy apartments in l.a. or whatever are supposedly burdened by their obsessive-compulsive disorders, & i thought it was retarded bullshit…like twirling three times, inhaling twice & snapping the fingers on both hands at once, just before locking the front door.  stupid.  but i really believed this guy.  hmm…well, if anything, it made me feel normal for compulsively checking my makeup every five minutes.

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