You stepped on my Shneck

I may have a touch of OCD.  There are just certain things that I have to have a certain way, no matter what.  For example, the air filter has to be on whenever we are sitting in the living room, even though we haven’t been able to find replacement filters and it probably doesn’t work anyway.  I always wash the in the same order in the shower.  Hangers have to be facing the same way in the closet.  I think everyone has a little of this in them, has their own little quirks or weird aspects of their personality.  But my biggest, most irritating (to AJ) and most rigid OCD thing is The Schedule.

On weekdays, I adhere strictly to a schedule.  We must have dinner by 7.  AJ and I must both be showered and on the couch by 7:30.  EVERYTHING has to be done by 8, and we should both be in bed by 10 at the latest.  Doesn’t this make me sound like some crotchety old lady?  I get very aggitated if The Schedule is not followed.  There may be yelling and even tears if AJ decides we need to eat out and it is already 7:30- way past the time when we should have been eating.  I have no idea why I’m like this, and I don’t want to be!  I want to be cool and flexible, ready to do whatever at a moments notice.  On weekends I am fine; but sometimes on Friday nights I will feel my heart start to race if I look at the clock and things aren’t done.  Then I will remember that it is Friday and I’ll relax.  So obviously I don’t NEED to have The Schedule, or else I would need it on the weekends too. 

AJ get irritated about The Schedule, and I really think that sometimes he messes it up on purpose just because he thinks I’m being dumb.  And I am!  I agree!  But I don’t let that stop me from compulsively reminding AJ of the time, the time, the time. 

Why am I like this?  It has just come about in the last couple years.  I know that once we have kids and stuff, any kind of schedule is out the window, so how am I going to do that? 

Now you all know what a nerd I am.  I have outed myself on the Internet. 

Stop reading this!  Don’t you have a dinner to be eaten?  WHAT TIME IS IT???  

Hey, guess what?  It was my birthday, and I turned 26.  I know that doesn’t seem old to some, but to me it seems ancient.  Especially when I feel no older than maybe fourteen, on a productive day.  Anyway, I had a fantastic birthday weekend. 

Friday we went out to eat with some friends to celebrate.  Saturday AJ took me shopping (!!!!) and I could buy whatever I wanted… within the spending limit.  This was the best present, because I can’t tell you how long it has been since I shopped for myself.  It was wonderful.  I tried on and tried on, and picked out and picked out, and finally ended up with a new shirt, new bra, and new pants.  A whole new outfit!!  Oh, and I actually got measured for my bra and turns out since I got the breast reduction, I have been wearing a size too small… wishful thinking I guess.  So I got the right size.  Then we went to AJ’s sister’s house, had a couple of drinks and played Balderdash, and then we went out to the bar. 

It was the end of the night and we were getting ready to leave.  I was draining my drink when I noticed that AJ was talking to an unfamiliar girl.  I figured it was someone he went to school with or something.  Well, then the girl comes over to me and introduces herself…. turns out that this was THE girl, you know, the one before me that he dated for years and the first girl he said “I love you” to and the first girl that broke his heart.  Needless to say, I don’t like her.  I was polite, though, and held it together well.  THEN she introduces us to her husband, and guess what?  He is supposed to be the caterer for our wedding!!  Ha!  Isn’t it a small world?  (I don’t really think it is funny)

Anyway, Sunday we went to my parent’s house for some quality time and some of my mom’s should-be-illegal-they-are-so-good beef tips over noodles. 

 So that was great, and I had a really good time (minus meeting the girl).  But tonight is when it all comes crashing down.  See, every year my father likes to pretend that my stepmother and I get along just like best friends, and on my birthday we all have to go out and pretend to like each other.  We don’t.  And the thing is that she knows I don’t like her, I know she doesn’t like me, and that’s fine with both of us.  It is only my dad’s fantastic notion that maybe we will just see each other and hug and forgive.  Not gonna happen, on either side.  There are a lot of reasons for this dislike, too many to get into here, but isn’t this supposed to be my birthday?  Why do I have to spend it with someone I don’t like?  I hate it, but I don’t say anything because it seems to mean so much to my dad.  And I’m just that wuss that doesn’t want to make anyone mad.  So I’ll go, and choke down my food that I picked because I like it but then I can’t enjoy because she complains the whole time, and then AJ and I will go home and watch America’s Next Top Model and laugh about what a bitch she is. 

I wish we could skip the whole dinner part and go straight to the bitching.