(Yes, I am personifying “OCD.” It is like another person. And it reacts.)

My office chair broke. As someone that works on my desktop computer about 16 hours every day for work and for… other work… this isn’t good. This is not good at all. My OCD compounds all of the bad, and I present you with my thought process regarding the eventualities of this occurrence:

1. I’ll never be comfortable again.
I know from sitting in others’ chairs that my own chair is broken in, to perfection. It isn’t just a matter of physical comfort-I can probably find that with any chair. This is a matter of mental comfort. I notice when things are off by mere inches. “Off” is, of course, relative. And everything is measured relative to how things have been. Which leads us to the idea of change.

2. Change is being forced upon me.
I immediately go to thinking that I want to buy another of the exact chair I’m using. Because change-especially when forced upon me-is something I will obsess over. I could actually find a more comfortable chair, but it won’t be the same. And I take that cliché concept of “won’t be the same” to an extreme point. My day relies on most of everything being the same. That is how my OCD works.

3. I’ve just lost money.
For the past five or so years I have been obsessed with saving every penny I can. I’ve learned a lot of life lessons over the years dealing with my money being taken from me. Now I am faced with… my money being taken from me. Because this didn’t have to happen.

4. This didn’t have to happen.
I broke my chair by leaning back too far. I can blame myself because someone has to be to blame, no? If I could go back in time and treat my chair differently. If I could go back in time and consistently be more gentle with my chair… I’d still be sitting in a chair that feels the same.

5. This has to be fixed today.
I have no idea how I’m going to fix this chair, but the day is on hold until I do. There are broken slivers of wood, so it is clearly not a situation that can be remedied by tightening a screw. Which I tried. No, this is broken for good. Or, that is the reality in the “reality” part of the universe. In another part of the universe, I am going to continue to attempt to fix the unfixable. All day.

6. I am a bad person who broke a gift.
This chair was a gift. I have now broken it. It doesn’t matter that I received the gift years ago, it doesn’t matter that everything has a lifespan. It broke. Under my watch. And it was a gift. I am therefore a bad person.

7. Repeat parts 1 through 6 obsessively until my brain really, really gets the point that this is a very bad thing. Very bad. Worry about how I’ll feel. Be angry that today is now a lost day. Know the world is working against me.

And repeat the thought process. Because that is OCD. Repeating the thoughts of negative eventualities like a snake eating its tail. Constantly thinking about this occurrence. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking. Constantly thinking.

Until I am worn out.

At which time I will have a new chair. That will probably be ok.

Possibly. Probably not. Nothing is ok right now.