I’m traumatised.



The room I’d just spend one and a half hour cleaning this afternoon. The room I’d painstakingly chosen over running because I can’t afford to waste time doing both on the same day.


And the cat thought it was ok to hang out in my room! I opened the front door and it just zoomed straight into the house! I had to call Aida from next door to help me catch it- there’s no way I was going near it.


It’s not that I hate cats. They’re fluffy and fat and kindda dumb- what’s there not to like? I just don’t think they’re…………….hygienic.


I know their saliva has anti-bacterial properties and special enzymes and stuff but I can’t accept the fact that they don’t wash up after they urinate and poop, as crazy as that may sounds.


It’s like if I didn’t make my bed before slipping under the comforter, I freak out because I imagine there’s a snake or a bed of ants lurking somewhere underneath it. Too much Discovery Channel, that’s the problem.


So forgive me for this isn’t me talking; it’s my OCD.

Bad OCD!