Things OCD does to me

I've mentioned it before.
I have a rather mild form of OCD. You'll occasionally find me cleaning ALL THE THINGS, but it's considerably more likely that I'm manic at the time and not caught in a bout with obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Instead, I do everything in prime numbers. I can actually recite all the prime numbers up to 1009. It's a fun party trick. Actually, check that. 1013. Combine that with my knowledge of the first 103 digits of pi and I'm pretty much a walking dictionary of useless shit.

I once made a friend switch seats with me in class because his chair was prime and mine was not. At recitals, I always sit in the fifth chair of the fifth row. When I book tickets for musicals, I ask for a prime numbered chair.

I walk in prime numbers. I will count every step on every sidewalk section, and if it's not prime, I have to go back and MAKE it prime. Most fall nicely into twos and threes, though, and the ones that don't are generally fives and sevens.

I eat in prime numbers. Back when I could eat pepperoni, there had to be a prime number of pieces on each slice of pizza I ate. I organize my M&Ms by colour, then in prime numbered rows. If a colour fails to be prime, I pass off the spares to the nearest person who understands/doesn't question why I have to do things this way. Today, I drank three cans of soda. I've had two slices of pie. I ate two small bowls of mac & cheese with two small dill pickles, I had two waffles for breakfast, I put exactly seven shakes of nutmeg into the sugar blend for the pie, which had exactly five ingredients. I used five apples to make the pie, and total (including the sugar blend), it had seven ingredients.
I take ice cubes in prime numbers. It doesn't help that my ice cube trays, for some reason, make seventeen cubes each. Most recipes I have commited to memory have prime numbers of ingredients and are memorized in alphabetical order. I'm fairly sure this isn't a normal thing. Go ahead, blame it on little memory tricks. Explain to me, though, why things with eight or four ingredients just don't stick in my head.

Onward! To more crazy things!

My bookshelves are arranged in a somewhat unique matter.
Most people arrange alphabetically by author. My father organizes the next set (multiple books, same author) by title, unless they're obviously a series (2001, 2010, 2061, 3001). Usually, the two are the same thing.
My books are arranged by author, until I get to the "D"s. Then I have every DragonLance book I own, arranged chronologically by placement in the saga. I've read every book, just to figure out where they go in this order. After that, it continues normally until I get to the "F"s. Then, Forgotten Realms books take over for a while, arranged in the same manner as the previous saga.
It's not just sagas and such. I have every Redwall book by Brian Jacques, organized by where they fall on the timeline. Well, fine. That was something similar. If I have several books, not connected by a timeline, they're organized by when they were published, not by title. I can find every book I'm looking for, exactly when I want it, but Fiance still looks at my shelves wondering what on earth is going on.

Fiance moved a shirt in the closet on me once. It was just a shirt. Nothing particularly wonderful about it. Just a black Uni t-shirt, with "IDAHO" written across the chest.
I noticed it was out of place when I stumbled out of bed to get dressed. I was running late, though, so I told myself it wouldn't be that big of a deal, and let it stay there.
I ended up skipping class just to fix the shirt in the closet. It bugged me THAT. MUCH. It was only swapped over two, so instead of being with my "school pride" shirts, it was in with my Jazz Fest shirts (I should note I have a prime number of shirts, and a prime number of categories, too). Things HAVE to be where they're supposed to be. It eats away at my mind if they aren't.

When I worked at the Chinese restaurant, I meticulously organized all of the silverware. I have to stop myself from rearranging silverware when I go out to restaurants with friends and family. It's easier at most places, though, because they have a prime number of pieces. The Chinese restaurant had four. I rationalized it by saying there were three KINDS of silverware.

The point of this?
Not all people with OCD are rearranging the threads on their carpets, making sure they're all the same way. Not all of us have to wash our hands every time we touch something "unclean". I don't have to touch the doorknob three times before I can open it. My apartment is rarely what you might call "clean" or "organized". The things that matter to me, like my books, games, and clothes, are all exactly where they're supposed to be. Everything else is just a bit of organized chaos.

Things that make me flail

In just under two months, I'm getting married.
After copious amounts of drama involving my father's wife, we finally got things settled. I'm actively pursuing a restraining order on her, my father is walking me down the aisle, and my brother will be at my wedding.

And now I'm going to go back to flailing in my corner, because HOLY CRAP THIS IS ALL ACTUALLY HAPPENING.