One (or Two) of My Many Idiosyncracies.....

If I thought about it long enough, I could probably devote an entire blog to my many idiosyncrasies. (Is it any accident that word almost has the word "crazy" embedded in it?) I'm not talking about my sometime-OCD tendencies, but instead relatively minor things about my personality that I generally keep to myself. I promise I won't bombard you with all of them at one time.

One that came to light recently resulted in one of the few times I've seen Hubby speechless. I wanted some hot apple cider (the instant kind, the only kind we have), so I got out a small boiler and prepared to heat the water on the stovetop.

"Why don't you put it in the microwave?" Hubby asked. "It's faster that way."

Before I could stop the words from leaving my mouth, I said, "I don't like it that kind of hot."

Not THAT HOT. That KIND of hot. I couldn't even articulate what I meant. For some reason I prefer to boil the water on the stovetop for instant drinks like hot chocolate and apple cider. Don't ask me why. Please. Even stranger, when I'm at school and that's my only option, I quite readily use the microwave to heat my water. And it's fine.

I'm kind of sorry I'm burdening you with this.

Another idiosyncrasy involves those reusable grocery bags. I started buying them several years ago and have almost reached the point of always having them in the car when I go grocery shopping. I try to return them to the car as soon as I unload groceries so I will know they are ready for the next shopping expedition.

Because I used my four-day weekend for mundane things like bike rides and gymnastics meets and did NOT use any of the four days to do the weekly grocery shopping, I had to stop on the way home from school today. There aren't many things I hate more than having to stop at the grocery store on the way home. Come to think of it, I don't like to stop ANYWHERE on the way home.

When I got to the store, I reached in the back seat for my cloth grocery bags. There were three of them there, and they all said "Ingle's." I was not at Ingle's. I was at Publix. And I refused to use the bags with the wrong store name on them. Hubby says they would be tickled to think they had stolen a customer away and I shouldn't worry about it, but I can't bring myself to use the wrong bags.

I'm willing to save the planet and all, but it better be prepared to be brand-specific.

I'll shut up now.