The want of control in the midst of the quake.

Everybody has a little OCD.

I acknowledge mine: I cannot tolerate folded potato chips; I must break them apart in order to eat them; similarly, I cannot tolerate peanuts whose shells are bent; I only crack open and eat ones that are straight. I don't mind if my food touches on the plate, but I avoid it if I can.

My library is ordered by author (alphabetically) and the publications by publication date, and sub-ordered by genre; fiction, non-fiction, etc....and the drama section is separated. Non-fiction is sub-sectioned; the CD collection by artist and release date, but not by genre, with the exceptions of soundtracks and spoken word. Those are separate.

In a world where there is so much I cannot control, I control this.

Structure is structure, I guess.....you get tuned to a certain wavelength after awhile. I'm programmed to wake at a certain hour; I am programmed to accomplish certain things in the daylight hours. I'm programmed to allow for certain amounts of rest before work nights. Etc.

So, it comes as a shock sometimes when the schedule gets altered.

Today, I awoke with such a profound sense of futility that I stayed in bed well past the hour when I usually rise. There's a sadness yet in my soul that I haven't dealt with, I guess, and I wonder if there are guidelines to this that I haven't come across in all my travels. I wonder how long it will last.

I'm okay.
But I would like to be better.