I packed all my mini-vacay essentials: a few select outfits, heels, make-up toothbrush, work-out clothes and of course, Lysol wipes!
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| Hallelujah! |
I consider Lysol wipes an 'essential' for my stay at a Hotel. Over the years, my Hotel-Germophobia has gotten worse. There are things I can deal with, like plates and utensils at a restaurants. And there are things that I cannot deal with, like fuzzy blankets on an airplane.
My fear of hotels rooms seems to have increased. This has been a problem since childhood and is getting progressively worse. Last summer, I started washing hotel toilet seats. And I still hover over the toilet after I meticulously clean it.
I have even started bringing my own towels and pillows to hotels. And occasionally, I ponder whether or not I should bring my own sheets. I believe my Hotel-Germophobia is essentially an extension of my fear of anything fuzzy that was not originally purchased by me.
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| courtesy of SNUGGIE! |
I honestly don't like anything fuzzy. I hate fuzzy blankets! A fuzzy blanket feels gross on my creamy skin. Fuzzy textures make me cringe. And then, you add the fact that the very same fuzzy blanket has been used by utter and complete strangers, well, that is enough to send me into convulsions! I cannot bear to have my skin touch the fuzzy chair that has been sat on by strangers, who could severly lack impeccable personal hygiene. In my head, fuzzy things absorb germs and a plastic chair does not. Now, add in a hotel room, where the carpet, the blankets and furniture are fuzzy-I welcome you to my personal nightmare!
Getting back to my trip with my fiance, Larry. After a 3-hour drive in a Southern California winter rain storm, we make it into the hotel. As soon as we enter the room, Larry, takes his shoes off and walks barefoot into the bathroom. *CRINGE* I can't watch him, as I am getting slighly nauseous. Instead, I immediatly whip out my Lysol wipes. I wipe down all traffic spots. I wipe down the TV remote, the light switches, the controller and all the door handles. I do not bother with the dresser, because, let's face it, I am NOT putting my clean clothes in there!!! And last, but not least, I wipe down the toilet seat and essentially, the entire bathroom.
You would be amazed at black and dirty the used Lysol wipes are!!! I tear off the comforter is. I crumple it up and stick it in the corner of the room. And to my complete horror, the fuzzy cover that hotels use under the comforter is NOT safely tucked in between two perfectly, clean sheets. This hotel has only ONE sheet!
I look at Larry and point to the blanket in utter dispair. He automatically knows what to do. He balls it up and says: "Hey! Marta!" I turn, and my sweet, loving, husband-to-be pretends to THROW it at me! Of course, he instantly dies of laughter. I am frozen in horror. Larry thinks my Hotel-Germophobia is hilarious! I give him an evil stare and put on my flip flops to walk from the bed to the bathroom. My flip flops will never leave my feet in any hotel room unless I am safely tucked in between clean sheets, in bed.
I realize that this may sound completely insane to you, but I can't help my Hotel-Germophobia! It runs in the family. Every Harris has some type of germophobia mixed with a little OCD. The degree of craziness differs from generation. My degree of craziness seems to be going up.
Marta
Founder of http://www.projectpeeve.com/
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