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It's hard to be human. We all have something. I just happen to be obsessive-compulsive.

That means if I ever have to plunge my hand in a toilet to retrieve something, especially something as personal as eye glasses or jewelry, I'm not quite right for the next two or three days.

I wouldn't wish obsessive-compulsive behavior on anyone. But they do say that knowing is half the battle, so I comprised a basic checklist for those who think they might have OCD but aren't quite sure whether or not they need professional help.

If you have ever broken a deadbolt by pushing and pushing on it while chanting to yourself in your head, this door is locked; this door is locked; this door is locked, you might have OCD.

If you routinely spend 30 minutes of your baking time scraping out every little smear of batter from your mixing bowls into a pan and then another 10 minutes making sure that batter is level, you might have OCD.

If while walking across a parking lot you must hear your car horn a minimum of three times before you'll believe the car is really locked, you might be obsessive-compulsive.

If you consistently ask your kids at least five times to clear their dishes, do homework or put away their shoes, they could be brats, but you're probably fine. However, if their dishes must be stacked in perfect towers; their homework must be free of eraser smudges; and their shoes must be lined up against the wall in order from smallest to largest, then you might have OCD.

If you haul an arsenal of disinfectant spray, wet wipes, face masks and hand sanitizer with you any time you enter a public restroom with little children in tow, you're a wise mama. But if you are prone to full-blown panic attacks while standing within a dozen feet or less of a portable potty, you might be obsessive-compulsive.

If you run over a speed bump or pothole, worry it might have been a person, turn around to check, then run over it again only to worry it might really have been a person this time, you might have OCD.

If you walk around your house with a pocket mirror finding different sources of light in which to examine your makeup, you're definitely vain but probably not obsessive-compulsive. But if you have plucked your eyebrows bare, because you couldn't get them even, you might be obsessive-compulsive.

If you are convinced your hair is falling out, so you save the strands from your hairbrush in order to have plenty for a wig when the time comes, you might have OCD.

If you have to repeat something to your husband and then ask if he's really listening, he's not listening and you should throw a hard piece of fruit at him. But if you want to keep throwing that fruit at least three more times to make sure you hit him square between the eyes, you might be obsessive-compulsive.

If you get jealous when your husband flirts with a pretty woman, that's perfectly normal, but if you get jealous when he laughs with his cross-eyed, gimpy-legged cousin, you might have OCD.

If it takes you at least two hours in the post office to mail Christmas packages, because you check each line of every address on each box at least a dozen times before checking them again one last time, you might be OCD.

If the area rug has to be parallel with the couch and the recliner at an exact 30-degree angle in relation to the television before you can relax to watch a movie, you might be obsessive-compulsive.

If you worry you could go to jail any day now, but you're not sure exactly why, you might have OCD.

If you are planning on going back and reading this post through a few more times just to make extra certain you're not OCD…well, I really hate to say this, but…

You are definitely obsessive-compulsive!

- Hillary Ibarra

Hillary Ibarra has had several humor pieces published on Aiming Low and humorwriters.org and was recently published at Hahas for Hoohas. She is a mother of four who dreams of playing the banjo, living in Jane Austen's childhood home and writing for more than spam artists and 50 loyal readers but can't seem to find them in the laundry. She is the mysterious blogger at No Pens, Pencils, Knives or Scissors. In her spare time she likes to threaten to sell her children to the zoo, and their little dog, too.