Friday, January 15, 2010

One Brief Moment . . .

. . .  in the life of someone with an Addictive Personality Disorder NOS (not otherwise specified). Here is a brief test to see 1) if you suffer from this disorder and 2) if you have any empathy for anyone who might have this disorder.

Question #1.  From your life experiences, identify the following picture:



So many possibilities, huh? And I'm sure they're all good ideas. However, this is actually a picture of seven (7) chocolate chip cookies. Minus, of course, the chocolate chips. What can I say? I needed chocolate and that was the only chocolate I could find in the house. It probably took all of 30 seconds to break down the cookies into ice cream topping sized chunks in order to locate and devour all of the chocolate chips. You will notice the cookies were not broken down into uniform size chunks. That is because, as far as I can tell, my sister, aka Iman, aka Lily, aka Hogger of all Good Things in Life, pretty well got all the OCD genes. I'm not totally without special capabilities, however. I am a quick learner. Since the cookies were frozen, I was quick to take note that the chocolate chips would also be frozen. Therefore, I let them melt in my mouth so as not to create the need for another crown.

Question #2: From your life experiences, identify the following pictures:





AerialView:                                                                   Ground View:













If you guessed an archaeological dig site, you would be the closest one to accurate. The information about this particular site states I can have approximately sixteen (16) chances to uncover treasures. Therefore, I staked it out. Here again you will notice the segments are not identical in size or shape. I refer you back to the explanation accompanying the answer to the first question and remind you I was not given a chance to claim any OCD markers on my DNA. In the perfect world, (and who lives there, I would like to know?) it should take any reasonably sane person approximately sixteen (16) days to find all of the ruins buried in this frozen tundra. Not me.



In my world, it can actually be done in one night if everything is misaligned like it is now. But it is possible to unearth (or should I say, un-ice cream) the precious relics and learn all there is to know about whatever civilization inhabited this frozen, colorless world. Obviously they struggled when it came to trying to think outside the box, which contributed to its extinction but to my good fortune. It's much easier to maintain necessary security when the dig site is contained. This adventure is absolutely no exception. After only a few short minutes of careful and meticulous digging, I was already able to piece together a few tidbits about this Lost World. Without argument, the people who used to live here were a fun loving, well rounded tribe of people who would don little brown hats to go and play in the blinding, freezing ground. Which also could have been what led to their extinction.





  

Or, their peaceful little world was taken over by evil little cookie balls, distinguishable from good little cookie balls only by the little brown hats they wore. (But, who, you might ask, wore the little brown hats? The Evil Little Cookie Balls or the Good Little Cookie Balls?)



Sweet Addictions. Buried in my genetic makeup just like the ruins of Pompeii are buried in centuries of hardened dirt. What more can I say? Oh, yeah, except to emphasize that there is no perfect little world where it takes approximately sixteen (16) days to excavate a site of this magnitude. Unless, of course, you do not suffer, as I do, from an Addictive Personality.





But if you do, you know that when the need for whatever the current addiction is arises, obtaining satisfaction is the primary goal. Forget the toothpicks and yarn!



I am having to be more careful about hiding my addictions, however, as I don't want to be accused of being a bad influence on my grandkids. Besides, I have grandchildren who can read now and so it won't be as easy to pass off the ice cream in Gramma's freezer as plain vanilla when they can read that there should be chunks of stuff in there. And not yarn fuzz.



I am not randomly rambling. You're just not thinking as fast as I am.

2 comments:

  1. Such a sweet addiction. Enjoy every succulant spoonful.

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  2. Oh, my gosh! You are a total maniac. We got the same genes, that's for sure. I have done the same thing so many times, but your description was much more clever and eloquent. I just call mine a "disgusting eat ice cream out of the sink after I've tried to get it out of my sight" binge. Whatever are we going to do?

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