meet me at the Starbucks…

Yesterday morning, I was walking out of Starbucks and let the door pretty much slam in some guy’s face. Why, you may ask? Because I didn’t want to touch the door, obviously. I heard him “phhhhh” at me in disbelief as I did it. Now, I feel bad. Maybe I would have felt better about it if I had explained to him, “sorry, I’m OCD…I can’t touch the door so instead run through the smallest opening before it closes on me and let it slam in your face. All so I don’t have to obsess over the germs on my hand for the rest of the walk to work, because obviously I would have washed my hands as soon as I entered the building.” Think that might work? Worth a try.


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