K Battles Neuroses, Weather, Offensive Odors

I have this really weird obsession with checking the weather that is even starting to bug me a little bit. 

That is always the point in my neuroses in which I know that I have to do something about it. When it starts to bother my friends or my family I am not in the slightest bit disturbed, because who cares what they think as long as I know exactly what the weather is going to be every single day, or that my clothes smell perfectly fresh or at least not offensive, or that I will never ever heaven forbid eat anything that includes a combination of peanut butter and chocolate? 

But there does come a time when I get sick of washing my clothes every other day or checking the weather report every fifteen minutes (the chocolate peanut butter avoidance has yet to waver), and that is when I know that I need to do something about it. Recently, for example, I have started hanging up my sweaters or cardigans after I have worn them once, instead of washing them. Worn them! Once! Usually I would wash them immediately, possibly soaking them in vinegar beforehand. Even if I had only worn them for upwards of five minutes, I would toss them into the dirty clothes pile and that would be that. This, naturally, got on people’s nerves, especially when I would ask them, insistently, whether or not my clothes smelled. 

This, incidentally, is the exact opposite approach to clothes washing that, say, my brothers take. Their motto is: “If it has not fused with dirt to the bedroom floor, then it is probably okay to wear again.” And then they still manage to get more dates than me. 

It's probably the neuroses.

Anyway, the weather checkup is even more idiotic than my clothes obsession because, while I can usually control how my clothes smell, and washing them three times a day will undoubtedly make them incrementally cleanlier than they would have been before, checking the weather constantly has absolutely no effect on the actual weather outcome. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize and respect that I have no control over the weather and must inevitably bow to it. But the larger part of me—the part that is constantly cleaning clothes, for instance—will not accept this. “NO! There must be something I can do! I’ll check another weather report! I’ll check a thousand weather reports! One of them must tell me what I want to hear!” 

But it’s okay. I am reforming. I have accepted that there are things out of my control, and I will only check the weather once a day, or maybe even every other day.

Or, you know, not. Whatever.