The other day I was chatting to a good friend of mine who is a counsellor for Samaritans. This worthy organisation recently celebrated its 60th birthday . I am amazed and impressed in equal measure how my young upbeat friend can devote one night a week to listening to those, as she puts it, on the basement floor, as they cannot sink any lower. If we are honest each of us have foibles and idiosyncrasies that could border on the unstable or treatable: complexes, obsessions, you know the sort of thing. One I frequently come across is a compulsive need to tidy. I am by nature messy, papers strewn everywhere and nothing filed. There is something satisfying when some form of order is imposed but equally I take exception to those who come into my home and by definition life to tidy it and by implication me up. In a severe form this is classified as Obsessive Compulsion Disorder (OCD) . My Samaritan friend said this can arise where a person feels they are losing control and thereby seeking to impose it. My issue is that somehow the tidier tries to convince you he/she is doing you a favour, not (as I see it) indulging a disorder that needs correction. In fact I get quite mad about this.