Just Plain Chips

The other day I mentioned a couple of nice cars I saw on my way home from lunch. Someone made a snide comment ;) about where I live and work.

Well…today, on my way out of the parking lot of Culver’s my dad and I saw something even nicer parked out front of a fast food kebob restaurant. It was a Ferrari Spyder, not unlike this one. Pretty nice, pretty nice indeed.

Why is it that I can let most of my personal space, like my bedroom or my work desk, to become messy pits of misplaced junk, but when I am walking across the office here and I see a broken piece of a tortilla chip on the ground I can’t help but stop and pick it up and throw it away? I just don’t get it.

Another example was when my fam was at my brother’s “then”-girlfriend’s parent’s house in Chicago for lunch (it was deepdish Chicago-style pizza-yum!). I didn’t notice while I was doing it–Brian told me later–but while I was talking to people and telling stories I was also picking pieces of lint off of the upholstery. He said he found it funny but I can imagine that that kind of obsessive/compulsive behavior would put some people off. Sometimes it’s weird being weird.