Dear Soup Can Man:
I understand OCD, and I do not under any circumstances mock, belittle, or truly even get angry over those afflicted with it. I get it--your compulsion to methodically, repeatedly, and loudly rearrange your condensed soup collection, every night, between the hours of oh-dark-thirty and around oh-two-hundred can be used to set clocks by. Vague clocks, with an error margin of twoish hours, but still.
My soup collection is not alphabetized, nor is it arranged in any way other than "the ones I like more are in front," whilst the frequently-accessed stewed tomatos (screw that -toes bullshit) are the only set of cans that never really change places. I tend to move pretty quietly, opening and closing cabinet doors with little force if any. I stock my cans during the day, though I of all people understand odd hours. Please understand that I do not find myself incensed that your OCD strikes as it does, and compels you to do as you do. In fact, I more than empathize.
I am simply choosing to acknowledge that I have a very specialized, rather rare form of tinnitus, one which strikes between the hours of 00:30 and 02:00, and sounds remarkably like the banging of soup cans and cupboard doors in the night.
Meoh screw you tonight, HTML. fine. don't give me any line breaks.