Spice racks can make us happy--and tell us a little something about ourselves.

I bought a spice rack today. I’ve wanted a spice rack for weeks, and finally I said to myself, I said, Alice, old girl (I talk to myself like that), you deserve a spice rack.

I spent an hour tonight filling and labeling the spice rack’s glass bottles. And now I keep walking past it so that I can admire its shiny newness.

A couple of times I've pretended* to just be casually walking by, when—whoopsy—something shiny catches my attention. Well, will you look at that! It’s a spice rack!

I realize this is sad. It’s good at least that I realize it, right?

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* For whose benefit, you may well ask? My husband is watching television. My son is asleep. My dog—if I said what he's doing to himself, the google hits I get would become even more lurid. So this charade I'm playing must be all for the imaginary viewing audience.

And…cue laugh track. Roll credits. Thank you.

Comments

[jilbur]

If it's sad, I'm heartbreaking--but then, I never said I wasn't. I was cheered up just thinking about your spice rack, and it isn't even mine ...just one url:http://www.penzeys.comjust in case you still have any empty jars.

[Kristine]

I like to think that getting such satisfaction from little life incidentals, like a spice rack, is a sign that you are content. That it merely takes a shiny jar of cumin to push you right over the edge of happiness. Yep, that's what I like to think.

[Murielle Celine]

see you again sometime..

[Charlie Jones]

I just surfed in this great place. But it’s really a pleasure being here. Go onwith this good work.

[Jess]

To me, contentment has always been a good spice rack.

[Uwe Jan]

This is really a crazy world. How can anybody understand all this crazy stuff all around? It's so meaningless, but in one way it's fantastic!