Out of sorts

I have a horrible memory... and this has partially led to my OCDness.  I have to do things in a certain way to make sure I don't fuck them up.  It's all about preparing ahead for what I will surely forget.  Have you seen that movie Memento, where the guy leaves himself notes and tattoos stuff on himself? I can totally relate to that.  I sometimes basically don't know how I got to where I ended up.  

Anyhoo, long intro.  So, what happened this morning was, I had my street clothes already packed in my bag for work.  Usually, I have to root through the laundry pile that lives in the sink to come up with something.  Then I throw it all in a plastic grocery bag in my work bag.  

But, on Wednesday, I drove straight home with my work clothes on because I just wanted to get home to my family.

So, this morning, my routine was all out of whack, on account on not having to pack my bag.  So I thought.  I got to work, and I went into the bathroom to put on my work shirt, when I realized that I didn't pack it.  I had my work shirt sitting on top of my work pants, but I never put it in my bag with the other clothes.

Doh!!!

So, all I had were two small v neck T shirts and a wife beater.  So, I put on the wife beater underneath my purple v neck, so I would have a longer shirt under.

Then I went into the dry storage area to check the T shirt box for a T Shirt.  There was one 2XL shirt. Man's 2XL, of course.  It would be a dress on me.  And while I used to wear gigantic shirts in college, I don't think my employers would appreciate a gigantic shirt at work.  So, I figured, I would wait for them to get in, and see if they had a shirt or really wanted me to go home and change.

Being OCD, this made me edgy.  I kept doing my prep, but I kept looking at the clock, thinking if I would have time to go home if I were asked to.

I seemed to be ok on time when I started to make the biscuit dough for the weekend.  I hate making it, because it doesn't feel great using my hands to cut the butter into the flour.  I did get a cheap pastry blender, but it didn't really help, so unless I break down and get a nice pastry blended, I have to use my hands and not worry about how it makes my hands feel like claws after.  I was cutting in the butter, when I noticed the dough was awful white.  And then, I noticed, it was grainy.

I was using rice flour instead of AP flour.  I had done this once before, a long time ago, and I didn't notice until I baked the biscuits and they came out weird - dry and crumbly.  

So, I had wasted my time, and the ingredients.  We have been short on rice flour because the flour we had been getting from the supplier kept coming in with weevils in them.  So, I killed all this rice flour that we needed for the weekend.  And I ended up taking almost an hour just to make biscuit dough.

Stupid stupid stupid!!!

Anyway, the owner, the cult leader, my boss, walked and saw that I didn't have a work shirt on, but he didn't say anything.  

Later on, I asked him if he had a T shirt in his car, and he said, "Why, you look fine?"  

To which I responded, "I'm not in the uniform."

He said, "I figured you had a good reason for not wearing it.  It's fine.  You have bigger arm muscles than Manny over here."  

It still made me feel weird.  Like I was too comfortable in my T shirt.  The sleeves were shorter, exposing my tattoos and my said guns... which must have been distracting for all my coworkers.  One server asked, was it casual Friday?

Anyway, if you want to fuck with me, take away one of my pillows, put my eyeglasses case on a different shelf, change the order of my cooler mise en place, change the time I have to go into work, any little deviation in my routine totally throws my day or life out of whack.  

So, now you know.  You might observe a habit and see me as being anal.  Really, I'm just trying to keep my shit together.  It's always ready to spin out of control at the slightest movement.

postscript -

LMAO!!! Here is a prime example.  I just went to tag and publish this post, when I realized that I almost posted it on The Pork Porn Pages instead of Unnecessary Supplement!  I haven't written on the Pork Porn Pages in so long, that I automatically thought I was on the Unnecessary Supplement page... silly me... DOH!