I blame my mother.

Today I found the number eight in my bag. As in a number that you stick on your house so that when people drive to your house for the first time, they see your number and go, oh that's 8 Whatsit Road, that must be zz's house. No I don't live at number 8 so it's not mine. I found in on the ground when I was exploring an inner city suburb with my husband.

This leads me to the following question: Do I have problems? Is it normal to see things on the ground, and think, oh better pick that up and take it with me. I cannot begin to articulate the justification process behind that.

Another time, I was walking to the train station to go to school and I encountered about 100 digimon trading cards spralled across my path. What do you think I did? I picked every single one up and put them in my bag. I was 17, I did not watch digimon. Is this a sickness?

Oh and while I'm confessing, if you're wondering where all you're pens are, chances are I took them, one at a time. I can't help myself. If there's a big bunch of pens, they don't seem to bother me. But if there's just one pen, flying solo on an empty table/bench/etc, I pick it up surreptitiously and quietly slip it into my bag/pocket/hair.

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