So usually obsessive-compulsiveness is cute or quirky. Someone counts something strange, or washes their hands repeatedly, or has a set of routines they have to do along with a task. I just spent 6 hours bleaching my kitchen and bathroom because of one cockroach. This might seem like overkill to most people, but last night I tried desperately to sleep and couldn't because I could imagine that solitary roach wandering around in my house, helping himself to the contents of the cabinets, pooping wherever he wanted. So I cleaned.
The result is an exhausted girl, some wicked dishpan hands, and my mind now coming up with places I might have missed.
I should mention that this little compulsive bout didn't extend to any other rooms in the house (trust me they're on my mind too), although Bart - always my saviour - vacuumed with vicarious obsession in the other rooms in the house and cleaned just as long with me.
Just before I sat down I saw a paint chip on the door frame that looked like a bug and the hair on the left side of my neck stood on end... just the left side. It wasn't a bug after all, just old house, I'm probably just hallucinating from the fumes, or the fact that they're on my mind.
Little disgusting pervert squatter.