Hair is a good thing, in its place. Organic, decorative, functional, sensual. On the human body it serves its purpose. If only it would stay there.
Once it leaves its natural habitat, hair becomes the enemy of cleanliness. As someone who's had some intense cleaning experiences over the last few weeks, I can say without hesitation that I've had more unpleasant encounters with hair than with any other substance. Even soap scum was easier to get rid of than hair. Sometimes it's caked in hidden corners of bathroom fixtures. Sometimes it's just a strand or two that you can't pry off the sink or floor or mirror.
When I moved into my new house, there was a washing machine here that I bought from the previous tenant. I'd been advised to run it with an empty load once before putting my clothes in it, and that's what I did this afternoon. It filled up nicely with water and then stopped. What I had was a hundred-dollar tub of soapy water, and nowhere to drain it.
So I did what anyone would do. I called my mom. I asked if she had any advice or knew what I should do next. As soon as she got the message, she drove over here to take a look. It turned out the agitator had stuck, and she jostled it loose and let the empty load run its course.
When it was done, I pulled up the top of the agitator and found clumps of wet hair stuck everywhere. Not my hair, because this was the first time I'd used the machine, Someone else's hair. In a frenzy I scraped and scrubbed until I removed all the loose hair I could see. It was a nasty job, but I would never be able to use the washer if I hadn't done it.
I know myself too well. I get creeped out by things like this. At the old place, there was a cutting board that you could pull out of the cabinet like a drawer. I lived there twelve years and never used it because the first time I pulled it out it was covered with mouse droppings. I scrubbed that board until the original surface had been totally scraped away, but I couldn't make myself believe it was clean.
I guess there's more than one way I'm obsessive.