I’m not sure if I’ve always been compulsive, or if its one of those things that you get later in life like arthritis or hot flashes.  But let me tell you!
Since we Santa got Holden that DS for Christmas, all we’ve been doing (and by “we” I mean BH and I) is playing that stupid Brain Age game.  Competitively.  With a fierceness.  Have you played this “game”?  You should.  It helps you figure out that you really are not as smart as a fifth grader.  It gives you a series of tests and lets you know what your actual brain’s age is.  The first time I did it, my brain was in its seventies.  Way to go.  Now, I fluctuate between 32 and 46.  One time it was twenty six and I was bonkers with excitement.  And, then my husband had to go and get twenty three to show me up because he sucks, and is obviously a sore loser.
But, back to my compulsiveness…This game also comes equipped with Sudoku.  A little numbers game that, at first, I thought was a) scary (because of all the numbers), and b)scary  (because of all the numbers).  So I never tried it.  Until Brain Age.  Now?  I’m playing it all day long.  Remember, dear friends…I’m living the life of liesure with my being laid off and all… I’m completely addicted.
And then there’s the spider solitaire.  Really.  See, but its not like I just pick up the game and play a little sudoku.  Or I get on the computer and try a bit of solitaire.  No.  I have to play til I win.  And, for those of you who are not adept at Sudoku (those of you who are Normal, like me) it takes a fricken while to solve those damn puzzles.
And, the Spider Solitaire thing.  I have to say that usually, usually, I win.  But lately, I’ve been on a very depressing losing streak, and so I’m just at it for like an hour (exaggeration) because I Need To Win.
So there.  Maybe its not that my personality is compulsive, its just that I like to win.  No.  Need.  I need to win.
And, it weren’t always that way.  I was so non-competitive when I was growing up.  I will tell you who has done this to me, and that is my husband: Big Hands, himself.
I need to win stuff so that he doesn’t.  Like the day I whipped his ass at cribbage and Battleship (the Greatest Day of My Life).  I was so happy I could have done a little dance.  But I didn’t because I didn’t want him to think I’m the same Sore Winner I know him to be.
But, no.  I really think its a sickness that goes deeper than a competitive spirit. 
I have a huge great big thick book of New York Times Crosswords.  If I can’t finish one, I will move onto another until its finished.  Also, I can’t do just one load of laundry.  Its all or nothing.  I can’t just throw out a leftover without giving the fridge an entire once over.  I can’t put down a book until its finished.  Stacks of “stuff”?  Oh, do they bother me.  BH likes to keep every magazine that he’s ever gotten on the coffee table.   I read mine, and recycle.  Read, recycle.  It bothers me so!  Though, it also makes me thankful that I can live with it.  Because I don’t want to end up washing my hands three times before and after I pee.  (Though I can certainly see it going there.)
I think growing up in a household full of chaos will do that to you.  Make you neat and organized and fixated on tidiness.  Whether it be a finished crossword or an empty coffee table, its all the same. 
My mother always used to say that your bedroom is a window to your soul.  That has always been one of those sayings (like Dr. Phil’s “you teach people how to treat you”) that has really stuck in my head.  Though it always makes me laugh somewhere inside because my mom was never the best housekeeper in the world.  So how in the world that advice ever stuck is beyond me.
I’m obsessed with making it appear that everything is How It Should Be.  Just like those crosswords.  See that 988 of them that are not finished?  Oh, you silly!  There are four that are completely done!  See how clean my house is?  Well, that is because everything is thrown in the closet!
At least I know I’m this way.  And so does Sudoku.  So, there will always be that…