A while ago, I met a friend at the mall for a movie. I have a firm rule that I will not patronize a movie theatre that serves Pepsi products (which is why I was so excited to find the greatest, Coke-serving movie theatre ever), but my friend had gotten us free passes, which supercedes the no patronizing rule since I’m paying nothing.

I got to the mall early because traffic was light and decided to treat myself to Taco Bell. Yes, Taco Bell is a treat for me. I realize that the food is horrifyingly close to being plastic, and the guacamole and sour cream are dispensed with weird guns– but I think it’s delicious, and I’ve had very little luck finding decent Mexican food in Rhode Island.

I picked out a table near the window, took my book (Diary of Anne Frank) out of my bag, emptied out the 15 packets of hot sauce onto the burrito wrapper, and tucked into my delightful meal. I finished my small, free cup of water quite quickly, but had a water bottle of tepid water in my purse. I poured that over the remaining ice. Then, when I was done with my burrito, I pulled out a squished but still edible fruit and nut bar from my purse’s inside pocket to have for dessert.

Then I realized what I had done was a little odd, and a little like something that a crazy person might do. I wondered what I would think if I had been another person in the mall food court watching me do what I had just done.

Moments ago I looked into my purse and smiled with satisfaction as I saw the medium-sized box of Kleenex that I stole from the hotel in Montreal nestled in its depths. I mentally congratulated myself for being so smart as to take it.

I’ve started reading Babysitter’s Club books again– picking up where I left off when I was a kid.

I need to get a new piece of duct tape to repair my jacket but am reluctant to buy duct tape as I never use it fast enough and it gets all goopy-sticky, which I find extremely annoying.

I hoard food, and have no qualms saying to people “I hoard food” like some people say “I’m a soprano” or “I speak French”, like it’s a hobby.

I’m very excited to visit the National Plastics Museum

I’m shipping $125 worth of underwear to a friend’s house because my neighbors steal my mail, and because it’s been about 7 years since I bought underwear and most pairs have holes in them. I prefer to get it all done in one fell swoop so I don’t have to think about it.

In the past 4 months I’ve gotten banned for life from a diner and picked a fight with the curator of the National Diner Museum (because it’s not a real museum, and its website is poorly written!).

Maybe I’m not eccentric, I’m just interesting– maybe it’s all subjective.

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