Philly, man. The words "careful what you wish for" spring to mind.
Mrs. headtheball is properly OCD. Ridiculously so. By contrast, i work on a system that if it's not presenting an imminent danger to life and limb, It'll be grand. Back when we first met as students and there was the obligatory sleeping at others' houses and such, It wouldn't be rare to, say, go to the bathroom and come back to find my clothes hung up neatly on a hanger. I've gone to the shop and returned to find her busily "sorting out" various odds and ends that are really doing no harm to anyone. All of a sudden, your CD's are alphabetised, your socks arranged in a drawer by colour and age. Once, I met her on the stairs with my mouse and keyboard in hand, taking them for "a good wash". All them great old t-shirts and jeans are gone now, lost to such vague complaints as being "full of holes" or "a bit scruffy". That's as may be, darling, but I got that shirt at a 'tallica gig in 1992, and it's impossible to get a new one. And why in the name of all that's good and holy are you hoovering my comic collection?
It's a good thing I love her to bits, because if I didn't, I would probably end up strangling her.