OCD Is A Full-Time Job, Even If I Don't Have One

I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I've been unemployed for the last six months. The economy in my state (**cough** Michigan **cough**) is really crappy right now, so good jobs have been hard to come by. It stinks to have little money, lots of debt, and an uncertain job future.
It stinks even more to add OCD to this mess. After my OCD finally caught on to the fact that I was not waking up at unrighteous hours of the morning to trudge to work, I'm almost certain I heard it exclaim (with a certain amount of glee), "Yay! Now we have MORE quality time together!" And so we did. My OCD has become more pronounced in the past six months, mostly because I have much more time to dwell on and carry out the obsessions and compulsions. Whereas I might shrug off compulsions at work because I didn't have time, NOW I do have time. So why not spend that 15 minutes washing my hands? Why not spend a few more hours doing laundry? Why not spend more time reciting things out loud to ward off bad thoughts or perceived danger to others? Indeed, why not. So I have been doing those things.
It's kind of funny. When I'm in public, you'd never know I had OCD. If I didn't know you, and we went out for coffee or lunch, you'd have no idea that there was anything different about me. I'm good at hiding my OCD when it can reflect badly on me. But when I get home and I'm alone, watch out. If there were a hidden camera in my apartment, you'd see a completely different side of me. Washing, touching things, rotating cups and bottles, eating a certain number of chips or cookies, reciting things - these are things you'd see me do. And since I'm home much more now, I do all these things much more, too.
One of my most prominent obsessions/compulsions lately has to do with my bathroom. I mentioned in a previous post that one of my worries is sexual contamination from females. Lately, my apartment has been pretty clean (an accomplishment, I assure you), so a good female friend of mine has visited. She used my bathroom a few times, so now whenever I use the bathroom, I get stressed out. When I use the toilet and wipe, my hand comes pretty close to the toilet seat. This stresses me out because she has touched the toilet seat. When I wash my hands, I know that she has also touched the sink and maybe even leaned against the counter. This stresses me out and has led to many 5+ minute hand washings. I go through a bar of soap about every 1.5 days. Luckily it's Ivory, so washing doesn't chap my hands. (Look! Product placement! Hey Ivory, how about a free case?! And if that works, I'd like to say how much I enjoy the fuel-efficiency and earth-friendliness of the Toyota Prius...)
Because of this latest obsession, I put off going to the bathroom until I have to. (Because when push comes to shove, I'd rather wash my hands than the couch.) I have amazing bladder tolerance, but I know it can't be that healthy. But you'd probably put off something too, if doing that thing meant intense mental discomfort and anxiety. (Taxes, anyone?)
And now the good news. I am starting a new job today, so the time I spend at home will be drastically reduced. I will be a server in a high-end restaurant, so I'm sure I'll be too busy and too image-conscious to give in to OCD much at work.
So there you go. If you have OCD and are currently unemployed or spend a lot of time at home, I can empathize with you. If you have OCD and hide it in public, but then battle with it when you get home, I can empathize with you. And if you work at Toyota, I can give you my delivery address if you happen to have an extra Magnetic Gray Metallic (or any color, really) Prius laying around...