OCD DAY: After Christmas Affairs

Fur Factories

T'was the day after Christmas
And all through the house
Rolled poofs of dog fur
As big as a mouse.

The carpets were coated,
the dining room, too,
And Mum was sleeping -
What was I to do?

It's difficult to live
with a Compulsive Disorder.
The fur - it mocks me so!
I feel like a hoarder!

The counters were wiped
As quick as I could,
Though I wiped them last night
As anyone should.

The clock struck 9
And I could take it no more.
Out came the dust mop
to tackle the floor.

Suck all the fur!
Then clean out the vac.
Wash all the filters,
Tap out the dust sack.

My mother awoke and
came down the stairs
A bit irritated
By my cleaning affairs.

I skulked to our bedroom.
Oh God! How obscene!
It's a small space to share
With another human being.

Mountains of laundry,
A layer of dust,
The carpet is dirty,
I confess I was sussed.

And so I shall clean
While the husband's away,
To make it tidy for him
If he comes home today.

Because there he sits
In his hospital room
All tidy and comfy
While I scale Mount Doom.

It should take me an hour
To rid up the litter
If I don't eat my lunch
Or hop onto Twitter.

You may think it silly
That I fret over mess
But clutter robs me of
A means to decompress.

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