Obsessive Compulsions

I frequently feel that I suffer from a mild case of OCD. Now, I don't have the whole "Monk" style stuff: no aversion to handshakes, no fear of bacteria. That kinda thing. But I LOVE order; my order. Okay, I may not be the tidiest of people but I, nonetheless, HATE it when people touch and move my stuff. For example, I collect Gundam models and they are displayed on my shelf in various poses. I will occasionally change poses and I'm fine with messing about with them, trying different stances and that kind of thing. But if anyone else touches them, messes about with them or attempts to re-pose them better be prepared to lose their hand.
Often, my stuff will be in a mess. But the thing is, it's my mess. Things are in disarray and I know exactly where everything is. Please don't ruin my delicate state of chaos or else I will be forced to bury you under the mountain of clothing that is on the floor in front of my wardrobe. And it doesn't stop there; my cds and dvds? Alphabetised. Yep. I am that bad.

Order/ disorder; it isn't important which is present. It's the fact that I have control over what is mine. I can't stand it when I come home and find that Mum's been in my room, had a shifty and during said shifty she has relocated and "tidied" up my stuff. Don't do it. Just... don't.

It's more than your life's worth.

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Okay. I had intended to write more in this post but 1) I have a headache and 2) I am rather sleepy so I will bid the world of bloggerland buona notte and I will see you tomorrow.