I fought my OCD, and the OCD won

Tonight when we got back from dinner, I asked D if he could pull my boots off. This is because bending is a bitch, kids. Sorry to be blunt, but that's the truth. I realized these boots required deep bending before dinner, when I had to bend to stuff my pants into them (even sitting down), and my abs felt like they were getting crunched, which is unpleasant when there's a baby in there.

(I will go to great lengths to avoid bending. I keep everything I need on tables, chairs or counters rather than the floor.)

So anyway, D kindly pulled the boots off and asked me where he should put them. (He foresaw that this would require more bending.) I thanked him and pointed out the spot where I keep them. He put them back, but folks, they weren't facing the same way as my other boots.

I tried to overlook it, but I couldn't. My shoes have always looked like the cans in Sleeping with the Enemy. You know, the part where the audience's collective heart plunges into its sneakers because the psycho husband is back. Otherwise, the cans wouldn't be lined up so neatly. That's what my shoes are like. I could see it startled my college roommate when she could got her first glimpse of The Shoes. I come off as this free spirit and I mostly am. But the shoes. Have to be. Lined up.

So you know how this story ends. I sheepishly asked D to line up the boots correctly. He did it. I have a sterling husband.

My other story...I was going to ask a certain woman to be my doula. (I feel like I'm looking for a prom date.) Anyway, doula is Greek for "servant," and the doula provides support during the birth. D, though fabulous, is squeamish and doesn't want to be in the delivery room.

(It's probably just as well. He heard about how some woman was cursing her husband in the delivery room, screaming, "I'm never letting you near me again! @$^@$!^!" and he was a little freaked out.)

But now I suspect this doula is a total flake. She's teaching a childbirth class which is tomorrow. She told me I was confirmed and I'd get a confirmation packet in the mail. It never arrived. So I don't even know where the freakin' class is, and did I mention it's tomorrow at noon? I'm going to have to call and make sure it's at her office. I mean, it probably is, but doesn't that strike you as a salient detail she should have shared with me? I shouldn't have to call to find this out.

Also, she took a few weeks to respond to each of my e-mails.

My experience with flakes is that they are amazingly consistent. They will always flake out on you. They do not have flashes of responsibility and reliability.

So I think I should look for another doula.

I thought, maybe she has compartmentalized flakiness; perhaps she is flaky about childbirth classes, but not about childbirth itself. But do I really want to take that chance? No.

But I thought I'd air the issue here, and if anyone has a different perspective on the matter, do let me know.