OCD

I often do not use the office supplies on my desk for the purposes the great office supply god, in his infinite wisdom, intended them. (Anyone who was around the day when I was slicing the plastic off an advance copy of a book with an Xacto knife and then punctured myself in the finger so deeply, and with such force, that bright crimson blood coursed down and around my knuckles can attest to this.) As such, my office supplies show a lot more wear and tear than the average person's.

Just for a change of pace, though, today I actually wanted to use one of my two silver letter-openers for the purpose of opening an actual sealed letter. I looked at both of them and realized they were both covered in a gooey, gummy substance. (Most likely remnants of packing tape that I'd tried to slice through on a previous occasion.) So, I went to the supply closet to fetch a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towel, then came back to my desk and started carefully and meticulously wiping off the gunk. A coworker walked past my cube and glanced down at me, my brow furrowed in concentration. With a quick, sharp sense of horror, I looked up at him, then burst out laughing, and said, "I bet this looks really obsessive-compulsive, doesn't it? Me, cleaning my letter-openers?"