The (Neat and Orderly Ramblings) of an Obsessive Compulsive: OCD in da house.

My living arrangements for second year went a bit tits up. To cut a long story short, there was just a general lack of organisation, resulting in my decision to find other people to live with. This was of course slightly problematic seeing as spare rooms were mainly advertised on the Queen Mary Freshers Facebook page, meaning that I had to contact complete strangers and convince them to let me live with them. They obviously needed to know what I would be like to live with. Now, I’m not saying that I lied… just maybe bent the truth a little bit?

Potential Future Housemate: You don’t have any weird habits do you? Lol!

Me: Nah, man… I’m totally chilled. Easy like a Sunday morning…

I drink so many cups of tea each day that by the evening there will be a large collection of teaspoons by the sink because I can’t rinse and re-use the same teaspoon for each cup of tea… it’s just icky and it’s easier and less stressful to just get a clean one out.

Potential Future Housemate 2: You’re not a hygiene Nazi are you?

Me: No, I’m cool, your hygiene is your business…

There should be a bottle of antibacterial hand gel in every room! Just because we don’t live in a hospital it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep up rigorous hygiene standards! Coughs and sneezes spread diseases!

And then… I was rumbled…

Actual Future Housemate: You write for CUB Magazine don’t you?


Considering this was after we had actually agreed to live together, this was pretty unsettling. What if my new housemates were now dreading me moving in, thinking some combined Kim and Aggie monster from ‘How Clean is Your House?’ was going to barge in and spray everyone and everything with disinfectant? The old feelings of embarrassment started to trickle in, before I pulled myself together and told myself that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So I’ve got OCD, big deal. And it’s good to open up about it. Besides, I have to live with these people, it’s best to be honest.

Luckily, everything worked out well. I wasn’t shunned and we all get on well together… except when the washing up sponges are left lying face-down in the sink.

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