OCD is firing pretty hard today. Ghrrrrr...
I went to Orchard Supply Hardware to pick up some of those cool, high-lumen/low-wattage light bulbs. We're already using them all over the house, and I wanted to use them in 2 lamps in my shared office at work.
So, 2 light bulbs in hand, (looking mysteriously like curly fries to my weird brain), I happen to wander by the gardening area.
Ooooh. Sharp objects. Shears. Things that can destroy those plants that fight me in the yard. Like that evil, really thick bushy weed-monster that I had to fight when removing/trimming back the plant life against the house, in preparation for the great Termite Tenting of 2007.
I browsed everything, and came to the object that most closely resembled what I had deeply wished I'd had during my former battle with the bush:
I'd wished I'd had a light-saber at the time of the great battle. But a machete... PERFECT.
In case I had to do battle with another future fiendish foliage, I grabbed a machete and, foaming at the mouth with glee, headed for the cash register.
Then the OCD hit. Ok, and then the OCD, already high today, made itself more obviously apparent:
I'm standing in line at the register... holding a very dangerous instrument... the sort of thing that people are often known to use to murder their spouses.
Whereupon I'm confronted by two lovely and ridiculous OCD thought-threads:
1. What if I go crazy and kill my husband with this machete???? Maybe I shouldn't get it...
2. What if everyone here thinks I'm only getting this machete to do something evil, like kill my husband?
I explain to the cashier, in strange detail, that I'm getting this machete in case I have yet another gargantuan garden growth to fight in the future, like the one I most recently fought. The one I fought stupidly, with lots of sharp but inadequate objects, and lots of brute force, instead of using the smarter tool known as the chain-saw. Which, yes, we have one of.
The cashier is amused by the tale. Nevertheless, I can't help but feel, as I'm walking to the car, that she's just thinking: "Wow, what an elaborate cover-up story to keep me from believing that she's killing her husband later."