Friday night I hopped on the treadmill as I do every night because I’m super healthy and in super shape! I just mentally block out all of the chocolate chip cookies and pizza I ate this weekend. And also the lack of movement that took place.

After I got off the treadmill I walk out and can’t find my husband anywhere but I hear this unusual noise coming from our room. Turns out this unusual noise I was hearing was our vacuum. You can understand my confusion because that noise is rarely heard in my house, let alone when said noise is attached to my husband somehow.

He was being the wonderful husband he always is and was vacuuming to help me out with the cleaning. Isn’t he just the best?

Here’s where the problem comes in. I have a mild case of OCD. It comes and goes and only flares up in certain instances. Unfortunately it chose to rear its ugly head while Brian was vacuuming.

I actually told him to not worry about vacuuming and that I would do it. Not because I was being sweet but because my OCD inhabited brain was thinking, “He’s not going to do it right.” “What if he misses a spot that I always get to?” “He won’t remember to do this part of the house.” Why…WHy…WHY brain, why?

A man was vacuuming and I put an end to it.

This has to be a sign of the Apocalypse.