My kids tell me I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (“OCD”). OCD is a serious disorder characterized by uncontrollable, reoccurring thoughts (obsessions) and/or behaviors (compulsions) that he or she feels the urge to repeat over and over. People toss the term OCD around as if it’s simply fastidiousness. I don’t believe I have OCD. I’ve never been formally diagnosed. Rather, I prefer to think of myself as a Chaos Over-Compensator (COC). It’s my super power.
it’s tempting to label tidiness as OCD
You won’t find COC in the recently released DSM5. Reason being, I made up that diagnosis. COC includes some perfectionism, a little neat-freakness, genetics, and learned defense mechanisms. Consequently, the more chaos in my life, the cleaner my desk. On the flip side, if my desk or environment is cluttered, I can barely work. The thought that haunts me is that if I could put everything in the place it belongs, the world would finally make sense.
No body part has nearly as much attention as Teeth: Toothpaste, floss, toothbrushes, toothbrush holders
OCD or not, moving is a universal chaos-inducing life event. In fact, we recently moved. In reaction, I’ve been an organizing super-nova. Embracing that spirit, I decided to label the ridiculous amount of toiletry items I may or may not have hoarded. There I go again! Poking fun at mental health disorders! Hoarding is a serious disorder I don’t want to demean. To clarify, I don’t hoard. I stock up. There is a big difference. Growing up on army forts, we trekked to the Commissary for groceries once a month. My mother bought a breathtaking amount of provisions in case a hurricane hit Indiana.
how’s this explain the vagina drawer? it doesn’t
Sure, if I were so inclined, I could label them in an ordinary fashion. That’s what someone with OCD would do. The soap could go in a plastic bin aptly called “soap”, or some such. Granted, it’d make sense to store shampoo bottles in a drawer designated “shampoo”. At the same time, I could choose the hipster route and label the shampoos “lather”. Instead, I decided to group items according to the body part the toiletries service. I like labels that make you have to THINK outside the box. Get it? Bad pun. The threshold motivation behind the drawer names is to satisfy my desire to force family to ask, “What the hell would Jennifer put in a bin called ‘Head’?”
“Sinus” hits the nail on the head, don’t you agree? Sinus rinse? Check. Ocean saline spray? Check. “Prescription Head” covers eye drops as well as sinus sprays. In the past, I had two sinus surgeries and three of us suffer from allergies. Thus, sinuses factor large in our toiletry stash. A place for everything and everything in its place.
Although technically not a body part, “Wounds” are a distinct sub-category of “Skin” that merited its own drawer. There are a lot of wounds when you have a family of five, but I’m way more accident-prone than all the rest combined.
And that, my friends, is how I came to own a “Vagina” drawer.
What’s in it?