Glasses, Chips And Mental Equilibrium

Never before has the interior of this cabinet enjoyed such precise arrangement. 

Basically a guy needs to be a real whack-job to be me, and I mean that with love in my heart. I accept who I am, weird mental ticks and all.

For instance, when I go to get a glass I'm overcome with a sense of well-being when the cabinet is orderly and plastic bins and lids don't come cascading out.

But such good tidings can be quickly washed away by a creeping dread that we will soon run out of tortilla chips.
 

I like always to have extra for emergency deployment. At current levels, radical depletion could come at any moment.

The kids keep me sane, in a way, or they encourage me in my eccentricity, I can't decide. I suspect they'll get out in the world and realize there are other ways of doing things.

Until then it's time to stock up on snack food so I can have a moment's rest.