I've been a compulsive straightener since the fourth grade. It was round about this time that I stopped collecting knick-knacks, asked for a closet organizer for my birthday, and never looked back.
My Mom could always tell when I'd come home from college to visit for the day because she'd walk into the living room and all of the pillows on the couch would be lined up just-so and the magazines on the coffee table would be overlapping at the exact right angle.
I can't help it. I go through a room and I feel the need to straighten. To line up. To re-arrange. Unfortunately it's not relegated just to my own home. I get itchy fingers when I'm at someone's home and the angles don't match up. My apologies in advance to any friends whose couch pillows end up in a different order than you'd prefer. I have a problem.
Sometimes the angles test my patience and my will-power. Like they're there on purpose. Take, for example, the second guest chair in my office. Every morning I come in and it's askew. Angled haphazardly to the wall and the side table. Every morning I straighten it so that it's parallel with the wall and perpendicular to the side table. Every morning.
I'm seriously considering staying late one of these days to see who on the cleaning crew is messing with me. What kind of joke is this?