Mary Ellen went on to say I was behaving in the characteristically neurotic way I approach everything I do in life. I defended myself, of course. “I don’t think I am that compulsive. It’s true all my shirt hangers have to face in the same direction, but my closet runs east and west so I can’t possibly ...
“I am like begging you not to finish this explanation. You’re really scaring me. Here’s what else you do: you put the condiments in the fridge in alphabetical order; and the weirdest thing of all is the way you arrange books on your office shelves.”
“Wait a second. Lots of people have a special way of doing that.”
“By the authors’ first names?”
Despite my wife’s complaints, she did realize that once all the boxes had been neatly piled in the garage, there was a whole lot less disorder in the house — kind of a nice feeling, she said. “Dick, let’s just sit on the couch, cuddle up, watch TV and enjoy our clutter-free home while it lasts.”
“Why don’t we go to the movies instead?” I asked.
“You packed the remote, didn’t you?”
“It’s either in the R box with your raincoat and my Reeboks, or in the gadget box. No worries. I TiVo’d everything for the next month.
As I mentioned, it will be weeks before I can unpack anything. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me on my cell phone. It will scare the heck out of the cat.