Coping with my "omg, did I lock the door?" gene

6 years ago
This article was written by a member of the SheKnows Community. It has not been edited, vetted or reviewed by our editorial staff, and any opinions expressed herein are the writer’s own.

If you were to look at the photo gallery on my cell phone, you’d see dozens of pictures of my two boys, some pictures of my husband and me on our anniversary, and about 75 pictures of my garage door. Let me explain.

Every time that I leave my garage in order to go to work, the store or wherever, I take a picture of my closed garage door. This serves as insurance so that later, whether I’m down the street, at my sons’ day care or at my work, I can look in my phone’s photo gallery, see the garage door photo and the date/time that the photo was taken, and then I can have the security of knowing that I did, indeed close the garage door.

You see, I inherited my mother’s “Oh my gosh, did I lock the ________?” gene. This is a dehabilitating gene that has only gotten worse since I’ve had children.  Basically, what happens is that whenever I leave the house, I always wonder if I locked the garage door. In the back of my mind, I’m sure that I did, and yet, for the life of me, I can’t remember doing it. So, did I do it or not? I have no idea. Soon, images of us being robbed or murdered in our sleep are all that I can think about. Ultimately, I end up turning the car around and going back to the house to be 100% sure that I locked the garage door. Which, of course, I did. Every time. And yet, I can’t stop doing it. The gene is very strong.

But now that I have the take-a-pic trick, things are better. Now, whenever I get that sinking feeling as to whether or not I shut the garage door, I can verify that I did on my handy, dandy cell phone. This has saved me a lot of grief and a lot of time. And I’ve got several artistic shots of the garage door, if I do say so myself.

My friend noticed some of the garage door pics the other day. “What are all of these?” she asked incredulously. I explained the process to her and why I did it. She raised her eyebrows a bit and looked at me a little strangely. Maybe she finds it all a bit neurotic. But I don’t know; maybe she’s just jealous that she didn’t think of it first.

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