My recent obsession


I've been obsessed with being well stocked with toilet paper ever since I shared a house with three university students in North Melbourne in my mid 20's.  We were ALWAYS running out of toilet paper for some reason.  I have clear memories of rising early to get to work for a 7am shift at the hospital, taking a shit and then reaching for the toilet paper...  Of course, no washers in that house either, so it was a matter of cleaning the shit off in the shower with a squeeze of shampoo and the use of a very tentative hand.

These days I usually have a spare 15-20 rolls sitting in a cupboard somewhere.  Occasionally the stockpile will dwindle to the last 5 rolls or so, but I've never actually run out.  I escaped that godforsaken share accommodation one day while my flatmates were at Uni.  I abandoned my share of the bond and ran.  I acknowledge that my toilet paper fetish, when compared to the boiling cauldron of creepy disorders I could have developed, isn't a particularly nasty one.

The whole house always felt a little unclean anyway.  It was best to get out when I did.

I guess for me it is a bit like one of those compulsive hand washing obsessions, or one of those obsessive showering disorders people have where they wash 4-5 times a day.  I feel weirdly calm and in control as I put the 24 pack toilet paper in my shopping trolley, and I feel even better as I'm loading them neatly into the cupboard at home.

What's very interesting is that my fixation with the toilet paper appears to have been transferred for another creepy disorder.  I'm now obsessed with changing my bed linen - a ritual that tends to be a little exhausting.  It's getting up my goat.

A sneak peak into my life at the moment:

  • I'm about to loose my job - well my contract has ended and my employer isn't renewing it as there isn't enough money in the budget (plus he really doesn't like me much). 
  • I'm searching for a new job.  
  • I'm in the final stages of a house renovation.  
  • I've increased my mortgage to a scary level again.  
  • I've had no kitchen for the last 3 weeks and the kids, the dog and I are literally living out of the computer room.  
  • Half of the house is in darkness until the electrician hooks everything up to lights.  
  • The house is filthy with dust on every surface with balls of dog fur rolling over the wooden floor in the wind.
  • Workmen arrive at 7:15am every morning.  I'm normally scrambling to put a bra on and tie my grandma bed-hair back before they walk in the door.
  • My vacuum cleaner is broken and I haven't had time to get to the shop to buy another.
  • The usual - kids + work Monday to Friday.
  • 3 of my children have recently yelled out to me "Hey Mum, guess what I got in Maths/Science/Religion?"  (What??)  "Do you care if I got a D?"  For the child who got the D in religion, the answer was no, but for the other two children - well, I'm deeply depressed about their marks.  I am failing miserably when it comes to taking part in my children's education. Father Time is not on my side.
  •  I'm trying to do some further study and the assignments are a fucking nightmare.  
  • I have an assignment due in a week...and I'm writing this blog.
  • I've spent way too much time lately lusting and fantasising myself into imaginary situations with a man I'm interested in.  Filthy stuff.  

I'm figuring that the sheet changing obsession (current leading figures stand at twice a week, up from once every 3 weeks) has developed as I've been learning to live amongst the filth and chaos and the sinful thoughts.  At least if I shower last thing at night, make sure I wear my new sheepskin slippers from the shower to my bedroom, then hop quickly into my bed, I think I can be pretty sure at least one thing is clean at the end of that day.  

I'm not sure what's happened to my toilet paper fetish.  So far I haven't run out, but I haven't been buying up big lately either, so that's a bit strange.  I'll certainly let you know the finer details if I end up having to squeeze shampoo onto my digits and hand wash my ass in the shower. 







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