Dwayne straightened his collar for the hundredth time in the last hour. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it to lay even on both sides.
His friends told him a dozen times a day that his OCD was out of control, but he never paid them any mind. He knew it was bad, but after spending thirty years dealing with it, changing now just seemed like a bigger pain than accepting it.
Cursing, he tore his shirt off and grabbed another.
“Okay, this time I’ll get it.”
His collar folded down perfectly and he smiled. “I’m good.”