jayma mays, emma, glee, ocd, obsession, disorder, obsessive disorders

Midult Mini Obsessions

Sometimes your brain is not your friend. It gets its teeth into something and chews and chews and chews until you find yourself to be very nearly, if not actually, insane.

Obsessive Compulsive Deliveroo-er

Yes you’ve signed up to Hello Fresh. Yes you love GBBO and Buzzfeed Tasty. Yes you have 10,000 cookery books and occasionally fantasise about [insert hot chef]. No you cannot be arsed to cook.

Obsessive Bunker Disorder

Be prepared for anything say the voices in your head. Anything could happen. You might one day run out of detergent they say. Or passata they say. AND THEN WHAT WILL YOU DO?????? So you are compulsively backed-up. Even your back ups have back ups. That’s just how you (loo) roll.

Obsessive Phone Disorder

Where the fuck is my… oh there it is… Where the fuck is my… heart pounding, sweaty mess… oh there it is. And repeat. Ad infinitum.

Obsessive Conditioner Disorder

Need a new shampoo. But the conditioner is not finished. Why is the conditioner the same size as the shampoo? Asks the universe, the universe shrugs. Not that wild about this shampoo anyway as it felt a bit clingy, but do the shampoo and conditioner need to match? Stares at 10 bottles of half empty conditioner in bathroom. Furious.

Obsessive Maths Disorder

How long before I die? How long before I need to order the grocery delivery? How many hold bags are we going to need if each limit is 20kg but you can spread the weight? How much data have I used up on my phone/cloud/computer? What is the maximum amount of time I can leave my roots versus the amount of times I have to be seen in public? Maths, maths, maths.

Obsessive Mutton Disorder

This is the constant checking of the mutton versus modern style scale. Should we stray from the carefully crafted uniform (almost an anon-iform) that has kept us safe for years. Do we act upon the sudden desire to buy something with a pom pom on it? Gingham? Leopard? Broderie? It is trying too hard? Is it tragic? A platform slide with a suit? I hate my clothes. I hate my self. FML. Find me a darkened room to rock in please.

Obsessive Lighting Disorder

Oh don’t mind me buggering about with the dimmer knobs, lighting candles and putting them in front of mirrors. Ignore me turning the overhead lights off (bad) and table lamps on (good). Is it cosy or claustrophobic? Glamorous or brothel-y? Are we forever on a constant lighting quest to keep things flattering but glowing? Welcoming but faintly glamorous. Never gloomy, never bright. The lights, the lights… 

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