Some thoughts on insanity

Since I moved out on my own at the age of 19 (almost 19 years ago!), I have moved ... you guessed it! 19 times! This grand total includes 14 moves before I was married (to college in the fall, back home in the summer, playing musical apartments with friends, etc) and 5 moves since Chief Potter and I married in October 1995. Now, if you do the math, you soon figure that since marrying, I've averaged a move every 2 years. So, it only stands to reason that since we've been dwelling in our present home since April 2003 ... IT'S TIME TO MOVE!

Some time ago, I ran across my text from the abnormal psych class I took my sophomore year of college and decided to see if anyone has labeled or otherwise named/identified this frightening disease with which we both suffer. It took me awhile to find it, but there it was nestled right in there with a whole slew of other obsessive-compulsive (OC) behaviors.

Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is an illness that causes people to have unwanted thoughts (obsessions) and to repeat certain behaviors (compulsions) over and over again. We all have habits and routines in our daily lives, like brushing our teeth before bed. However, people with OCD have patterns of behavior that get in the way of their daily lives.
Most people with OCD know that their obsessions and compulsions make no sense, but they can't ignore or stop them.

Here are my driving obsessions and irrational beliefs:

1. A move will force me to get rid of all that junk that's been accumulating in the attic and garage since the last move.
2. A move will force me -- once again -- to turn over a new leaf and start being the organized gal that I know I was really supposed to be.
3. A larger home will take care of all these clutter problems that threaten my sanity on a daily basis.

And so I surf the MLS listings religiously, weighing the pros of this house against the pros of that one I just adore across town ... all the while, knowing that we need is not so much another move as one of those ruthless guys from that cable show where they pull every blasted thing you own onto your front lawn and start culling through it as the neighbors walk by and chortle. "Get rid of it!" they echo in unison. "Now tell the truth ... are you REALLY ever going to find a use for the thimble collection your Aunt Gertrude left you ... GET RID OF IT!"

Yup, that's what I need. But until the cable network tells me that its boys are on their way, I'll just keep obsessively perusing those real estate listings to make sure the perfect house doesn't get away.