Believe it or not, those words were actually spoken to me a few weeks ago by my academic advisor, of all people. The story behind those words is quite long actually, and not really worth going into. But still, a person I revered - whose class was so far one of my favorites - was indirectly accusing me of a compulsion! Okay. Look, I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit of a "checker". I have a tendency to run back in the house to make sure the oven is off or the curling iron is unplugged. I've been known to set my alarm clock and roll over 3 or 4 times to push the button to verify that I do in fact, have the alarm set for "a.m.". I can even remember opening the refrigerator door just a crack after shutting it, to ensure that the light had turned off. They make medication for stuff like this, I know.
The irony of it all is that I can't seem to manage to "check" for the important things. Things like: my keys, my purse, my cell phone. To Husband's great frustration and annoyance, I am constantly running back in the house to grab these items. I am daily asking him to call my cell phone so I can see if it's in the house, the car, they yard, etc. Last night we went out to dinner and of course, this morning my purse was nowhere to be found. When I broke the news, Husband just rolled his eyes and sighed a little. It's par for the course. We don't panic anymore. Fortunately, my oldest son found it on the floor of his bedroom, where I left it when I took his brother, sleeping, from the car to bed.
So here's my point: I have a heck of a lot going on here. Don't all moms? Add to that all the stuff I'm trying to keep straight for my 14 hours of grad school. Could we just assume that I'm going to forget things and compulsively check because I'm so used to forgetting, and move on?
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