Admission

As I approach this green house while walking along Willamette Blvd., I compulsively watch for the lamp post to line up in the center of the flat plane of the chimney. But, the house isn't perpendicular to the street I'm on, and the lamp post isn't perfectly upright, so I experience a brief, but reliable, twinge of something like dissatisfaction. 
OK? Is that so bad? Not too OCD?
If that's the worst that happens, life could get worse. 
Things could get worse, couldn't they; in all sorts of ways.