I've been telling my friends I'm OCD. No. Actually, I have been telling them that I am self-diagnosed, OCD and ADD with annoyingly neurotic tendencies. They don't seemed shocked, particularly about the annoyingly neurotic tendencies. Doesn't that seem rude?
Seriously though, it might really be true.
I've vowed not to mention my profession on this blog. It's part of my self-prescribed regimen for diverting my obsession with my profession in the direction of a more balanced lifestyle. (Hmmmm. Can one be fixated in OCD fashion on balance? )
Anyhoo.... previous to this diversion of obsession, I had been devoting a ridiculous amount of time to the Profession Which Shall Not Be Named. This, much to the detriment of my relationship with self, hubby, doggie, family, and friends. And so. My New Year's resolution included, in addition to becoming a female gladiator, to reduce the number of hours I spent at aformentioned establishment and more with loved ones.
And ... on this ... I am proud to say I have been mildly successful. I have indeed been putting in fewer hours in the ole salt mines. Now, however, I seem to have developed an OCD-like obsession for all things cycling and triathlon-ish.
Damn obsessions.
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