I want to clean my garage.
Standing alone, that statement is kind of bizarre. In almost every case, in virtually every household, that statement would read “I have to clean the garage,” or “I can’t go fishing this weekend because she wants me to clean the garage.” So, the singular premise that I’d want to clean my garage stands decidedly bizarre on its own.
What is even more bizarre is that I just cleaned my garage on Thursday. It is Saturday. Two days ago I cleaned my garage, and did a damn good job on it, and right now I want to clean my garage again.
I am obsessed.
But not only the garage, the kitchen cupboards, too. I’ve been sorting them and rearranging them, mostly because a lot of what was in my garage belonged in the kitchen. According to Mrs C there was no room for all that stuff so it all lay in boxes crammed into my garage. THE garage. It isn’t just mine, it’s ours, so I should say the garage, not my garage. The cupboards, likewise, are not now mine even if I’m the only one in the house who knows where anything is within them. In fact, I’m pretty sure if it became an argument she could prove inconclusively that the cupboards are hers, entirely.
But I fit all that stuff into the kitchen. She’s been a good sport about that. The point is, I think, that I’ve become obsessed with organization.
We can, if we want, blame my sudden compulsion on the fact that I own this place (or, the bank does, but I pay the mortgage instead of a landlord). It is mine (ahem, ours) so I am obsessed with laboring in and on it. Okay, fine. But, how does that explain my sudden obsession with wanting to rearrange the warehouse at work every Saturday? Explain that one, Sigmund.
I’ve always had a thing about organization, that’s not new. I like things in their proper place. But, at the same time, I’ve always had a disinclination to be involved summarily in the feat of organizing. I have been, historically and legally, a world-class procrastinator. Apparently that’s a thing that I’m not necessarily, anymore.
(be honest … that was a terrible sentence, wasn’t it?)
But back in September, when the boss said to me “I’m not gonna do this forever, we should find a way to make it yours before too long” and the realtor said to me, almost simultaneously, “Your landlord doesn’t want this house anymore, we should find a way to make it yours right now” and the Rams said, “We are sick of losing we should find a way to win games this year,” something shifted in the makeup of Tom and he became obsessed with ownership, organization, and excellence.
The talking about myself in the third person part has been with me a bit longer.
I don’t know why, or how, but that’s what happened. My ADD became OCD. I want to clean my garage.
Which is okay, really. I hate fishing, anyway.