The Full Batman...

The Missus once did a Q&A test on me to see if I was borderline OCD. And, apparently, there is no 'borderline' about it. I am so far entrenched in the land of OCD that it would take the medical equivalent of a SAS strike force to rescue me and return me to any lands resembling normality.

In an attempt to break my obsessive habits of order and neatness and always double- or even triple-checking anything, from whether I've locked doors behind me or saved work on back-up drives and back-ups of back-up drives, the Missus bought me socks with the names of days of the weeks on them for Xmas.

At first, I genuinely found it quite hard to not wear the correct socks on the correct day. But I've been slowly weaning myself away from this habit, and now I no longer return home when I realise I'm wearing the wrong socks on the wrong day.

At this point, I should explain that I know this behaviour is utterly insane. And it drives the Missus completely crazy. On the plus side, it does mean our house is incredibly tidy.

A few weeks ago, however, I was getting changed after a martial arts class and congratulating myself on breaking the sock-day pattern compulsion. I was even thinking that I may be getting control of some of my more obsessive patterns of behaviour.

Then I caught sight of myself in a mirror: Batman socks, Batman boxer shorts and Batman t-shirt. I like to think this synchronisation of apparel happened by accident. But I fear it didn't. I'm only relieved I don't have a cape. The fight continues...