OCD-ing

OCD. The three letters which have me in despair. Because they're used oh so loosely as if they were funny three letters stuck together for laughter's sake. For the real sufferers, they're painful of course. For me, I think I have an OCD life, I breathe the three letters to perfection. I even OCD sleep if that were possible, because I don't sleep much seeing that I keep leading the OCD lifestyle. Right now, I have got into the habit of biting the inside of my lower lips. All the time. And come nightfall, I swear it's the last time I'll be doing it. Yet, come morning I go into relapse. But that is also nothing compared to the real OCD. I get all kinds of them, right now, it's the diamond OCD, which is the best of them all. I keep designing, re designing my diamond. I'm calling it my OCD diamond, because it has to have a name and it sounds like a very fitting name from where I am writing. It'll be a big fat diamond, for many reasons. For one, I have never understood why diamonds come in a 0.01 carat. Why break a lovely think like a diamond into such tiny pieces? The girl who consents to wearing such a farce of a diamond must be in dire need of therapy. Because just to take the truth out of it, it'll be called a delicate, simple, dainty thing. I don't want delicate, or dainty. And the last thing I want is to be called simple. So come off it you men, dig down into your pockets... and pay the price. Another reason why I have to have a big one (diamond I mean), I'm not small myself, and that is one reason why God created big girls, to be able to show off big stones unashamedly. I need at least a 2.5 and that's the minimum. Of course I'll have a bigger one (diamond again). Size isn't an issue? Oh of course it's an issue, the bigger the better. So come Tuesday, I'm off for a biggie... a big diamond that is. Perhaps then that would also mean the end of my OCD. Two killed with one big one.