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.