Oh how I love disinfectant wipes! They have them in the toilets here in my clients building. I don’t know if you’ve all seen it, but there’s a TV programme called “Monk” that centres on an ex-police detective with severe (and I mean severe) OCD. And I SO know where he’s coming from. And I know it’s nothing new- but there are so many MORE people in the building I share with my clients than there were at my previous job- and I have lost count of the number of times I’ve been in a toilet cubicle and heard someone leave without washing their hands. I wish you could see me in the toilets, I wash my hands, dry them with the paper towels (love those too) then blow dry them (especially under my rings) and then I get to the door… if my sleeves are long enough I use a cuff under my hand, if my sleeves are short then I stand there for several seconds having this internal debate on whether or not to go back and get a paper towel thingy to open the door with. And then if I do get a paper towel, I use it on the bathroom door and the door leading to my office’s passage- and then I must throw it away because- have you guessed?- because who knows how many germs are now on the paper towel thingy! And if I don’t use a paper towel thingy I don’t want to touch any part of me until I’ve washed my hands again… aaaaargh! It’s reached the point where I am seriously considering bringing my own coffee and sugar and teaspoon. If I open the coffee jar and there’s a spoon in it- I don’t want coffee anymore because I don’t know who touched the spoon last and I can’t tell how many germs are now in the coffee powder, the same with the sugar! And the milk- oh do NOT get me started! I don’t want to touch door handles because I can’t see how many germs are on it! I swear people- I am THIS close (picture me holding my fingers about 5mm apart) to carrying a thing of wet wipes around with me! This is insane- is this how OCD starts?