You know it is one thing to be messy and a whole different thing to be filthy. Ever since, there has been the sense of fear, it has been of only two things.Solely two things. One, the fear of losing loved ones and two, the fear of creepy crawlers. Tonight is so not about the first fear, although at the rate I am fuming, my loved ones will surely lose me soon.
From when the memory starts to instill, I have despised the mere sight of one of those smallest devils. I inherit it from my mother and we have over the years screamed, yelped and almost cried at the sight of these. That is also why we are obsessively compulsively disorderly when it comes to cleanliness. Scrubbing and cleaning every chance we get. I think as a family we spend the most on cleaners, toners, antibacterial fragrances, candles, room fresheners, naphthalene balls, cupboard perfumes, washroom salts..we even have a different brush and mop for every accessory fit in the washroom. To cut it short, we could spend all our savings to keep our space as humanly exist-able as possible.
Moving to a hostel has not changed that about me. I am keeping my spot squeaky clean. I have my room fresheners my antiseptics, my hand sanitizers, my clean wipes, my anti bacterial detergents. I have no qualms spending on washroom cleaners fortnight after fortnight, without asking my room mates to pitch in. No, they wont. I even got them the largest bottle of dettol available. CLEAN, people, CLEAN. So, when I am doing this much, how do I react to finding a brood of rather chirpy creepers on the common basin? HOW DO I NOT REACT TO IT? HOW ARE THEY SO CALM ABOUT IT? WORMS ARE A SIGN OF FILTH. DAMN IT. So, while I threw with my own hands the family of creepers out and scrubbed the basin clean with dettol, I barely got "oh" from the room mate.
My nails are blue and I have scratched myself like a possessed soul less body. I think as sleep crawls into my eyelids, I am going to have the worst nightmare. This has got to be the WORST experience ever. Youngest in the room and perturbed beyond my senses, when the older ones..wait 25 years to be precise are eating. Eating without washing hands for sure. YUCK. I want to scream into my pillow and shed my skin, so I can feel clean. But, thats not possible is it?
Don't tell me I am over reacting. I have a phobia and unless you have one of your own, you really don't know what phobias do to you. And if you do have a phobia, I want to meet you and cry with you.
In a very VERY rancorous mood,
Miss Rascal.
From when the memory starts to instill, I have despised the mere sight of one of those smallest devils. I inherit it from my mother and we have over the years screamed, yelped and almost cried at the sight of these. That is also why we are obsessively compulsively disorderly when it comes to cleanliness. Scrubbing and cleaning every chance we get. I think as a family we spend the most on cleaners, toners, antibacterial fragrances, candles, room fresheners, naphthalene balls, cupboard perfumes, washroom salts..we even have a different brush and mop for every accessory fit in the washroom. To cut it short, we could spend all our savings to keep our space as humanly exist-able as possible.
Moving to a hostel has not changed that about me. I am keeping my spot squeaky clean. I have my room fresheners my antiseptics, my hand sanitizers, my clean wipes, my anti bacterial detergents. I have no qualms spending on washroom cleaners fortnight after fortnight, without asking my room mates to pitch in. No, they wont. I even got them the largest bottle of dettol available. CLEAN, people, CLEAN. So, when I am doing this much, how do I react to finding a brood of rather chirpy creepers on the common basin? HOW DO I NOT REACT TO IT? HOW ARE THEY SO CALM ABOUT IT? WORMS ARE A SIGN OF FILTH. DAMN IT. So, while I threw with my own hands the family of creepers out and scrubbed the basin clean with dettol, I barely got "oh" from the room mate.
My nails are blue and I have scratched myself like a possessed soul less body. I think as sleep crawls into my eyelids, I am going to have the worst nightmare. This has got to be the WORST experience ever. Youngest in the room and perturbed beyond my senses, when the older ones..wait 25 years to be precise are eating. Eating without washing hands for sure. YUCK. I want to scream into my pillow and shed my skin, so I can feel clean. But, thats not possible is it?
Don't tell me I am over reacting. I have a phobia and unless you have one of your own, you really don't know what phobias do to you. And if you do have a phobia, I want to meet you and cry with you.
In a very VERY rancorous mood,
Miss Rascal.
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