I admit it...

I can freely and easily admit that I am a complete germaphobe. It drives people crazy, I know, but I can't help it. Ryan got frustrated with me yesterday because we were watching some show and the guy had raw eggs smashed on his head and I was disgusted and made a comment about how unsanitary it was. He wanted to know how I can always think this way and more or less told me to get over it. But the problem is, I can't not think this way. As difficult as it is for other people to put up with me being like this, imagine how it is to be constantly thinking about the germs that are everywhere. For lack of more eloquent wording... it sucks. The other day, I caught Ryan's cousin coming out of our bathroom without washing his hands and called him out on it, but he didn't see anything wrong with it, but I couldn't stop thinking oh geeze, what is he touching? How much of my house is covered in nasty toilet germs? I didn't want to touch the doorknobs or light switches without Lysoling it all. My skin gets really dry because I have to wash my hands all the time. I carry hand sanitizer everywhere I go; my mom keeps some in her purse for when I'm with her. I can't even sit on a toilet without putting down toilet paper first... even on my own toilet. Sharing towels is also a no-no. I will keep guest towels in my house, not because I want to have fancy towels for guests, but because I don't want their germs and hairs all over me. You might think, Danielle, you washed it, its, fine. But that isn't good enough for me. You know why? Because whenever I go to a hotel or someone else's house, I always get the towel with the pube in it. I can't decide whether I would rather know about all these germs and keep clean or be blissfully ignorant.