unreasonably rational

A blog friend wrote about cooking and OCD here . And I started writing a comment, but decided my comment would be too long, long enough for a full post. So here goes. My mom decided to make sure that all of her children knew how to cook. Actually, it is a remarkably positive-sounding goal. Reading it now, I wonder why I have sometimes resented it. But I know why. OCD. Say I was in charge of supper and I have to use ground beef. I got to go through cookbooks to pick something to cook. Say I picked shepherds pie, or, as we called it, Deep Dish Hamburger Pie. So there was browning the ground beef. Insert OCD here. Gotta take care of all the raw meet germs, and all the raw meet germ splatters on the stove, and debate whether or not the spatula that I used at the beginning of browning the meet got cooked enough as I stirred the meet, or if I needed to stop and wash it, introducing more raw meet germs into the sink... Then there are the potatoes. One time, my sister and I didn'

Where is that magic antidepressant medication that makes me feel better? Hey, wait, I was supposed to be on it, right? I was happy. I was enjoying life. I was working full time. Well, I still am working full time. But I'm overwhelmed. The good old, I don't want to go to bed because something (I don't know what, of course) isn't resolved. I suppose it is that sense that something is wrong. Hmm, wonder if it is depression or OCD. Because recently I was thinking that it looked like depression, smelled like depression, tasted like depression, so it might be OCD. Or perhaps more likely, OCD fueling depression. What would I do without my two faithful companions who have gotten me through so many years, the sober depression and the agitated OCD? I mean, who can enjoy life for a whole year straight through ? What a ridiculous thought. Today's sermon was on that passage in Luke where Jesus said, "Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh." The pastor

I learned something today. I learned that apparently, people don't scrap book about funerals or memorial services. And if they do, they don't get to put stickers of pretty angels in sparkling white on their pages. Unless maybe those are only in bigger cities or something. Because I couldn't find any angel stickers in white with sparkles. Actually, I didn't find any angel stickers. I still have some Christmas angel stickers from last year... I'll check into those. And I finally settled with buying Christmas cards with angels on them, with the plan to cut the angels out and add sparkles. I realize that the biblical accuracy of this angel picture in my mind is questionable. But I don't really care. I want to think of angel people in white - with sparkles, because I like sparkles, and I think heaven has sparkles - I want to think of these angel people holding my toddler student, carrying him up to heaven - well, I guess that would have already happened if my scena