Today's journal is in regards to my struggle with obsessive-compulsive disorder. The last line will only make sense if you've seen the television show Monk. For the record, everything in this journal is true.

Being obsessive-compulsive is hard sometimes. Washing my hands before every class makes me late, and sharpening my pencil to a fine point twice a day gets irritating. It's not that I like stacking all the books on the coffee table in perfect piles or arranging the dinner plates a certain way or making sure all my dad's CDs are in alphabetical order...it's just that I have to.

OCD can be dangerous. Last week I cut my finger while adjusting my pet cactus, Spike, so that he wasn't tilting to the left. My little brother tends to lash out when I sneak up on him with a hairbrush. The dog doesn't take kindly to having her food measured. It's risky business.

At least I'm not afraid of milk.

Lots of fun, living with an OCD person. Eh, you know you love me.