It's probably shocking to the readers of this blog, I know, but I've been accused of being uptight more than once in my life. At one point, I could walk into my bedroom and immediately discern if my hairbrush was out of place by less than 1/4 of an inch on my dresser. Certain words, topics, and situations left me in a wretched knot. Bodily functions disgusted me beyond belief. My sister had nicknamed me "Prudence." I was a (young) woman who desperately needed to be loosed.
Though I have improved significantly, I still feel bummed out when certain things aren't just so. Take, for instance, my pantry. I insist that all of the cans and the few boxes in my pantry are in order. I rotate the older stock to the front every single time that I go shopping. All labels must face front. I throw away anything that is at it's expiration date. Heck, I have tossed milk that makes me suspicious even if it hasn't reached it's expiration date. If these conditions aren't met, I'm terribly upset.
Unbelievably, I became unreasonably bothered by a spice container that is on the "wrong" shelf. Indeed, a lemon-pepper shaker actually inspired this post - it was on my coffee & ranch powder shelf. Take what you will from that admission.
Okay, I don't kidnap the daughters of Senators or take the skins off my "humps" (a la Jame Gumm or Hanibal Lecter) so I'm not going to be a serial killer, but I do get totally mental if my cupboards are not right.
I don't know when I loosened up, but I really did. I'm pretty mellow these days. I somewhat take the stance that the house can manage itself and I don't waste a lot of time screwing around with making sure that everything has it's place. It takes a lot to surprise me, let alone embarrass me. I'm almost uncomfortably comfortable with bodily functions at this point in my life. . .as those who read my blog regularly can attest!
But, damn, I get freaking nuts if my cupboards aren't in order! Yeah. I'm like the abusive whack-a-doodle husband from the movie "Sleeping with the Enemy." Just don't get out of line and I won't have to lay a smack-down on you! Or, more accurately, don't screw with my cabinets. . .