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Out of character

For the most part, I believe we are who we are. Oh, I think we evolve a little bit here and a little bit there, but I don’t think we act that much out of character.

Except, of course, when we do.

In the past month, I’ve twice behaved in a manner that surprised me, and I’m not even talking about when I ate an entire chocolate funnel cake in less than 15 minutes.

The first incident occurred when I happened upon my mom’s and my favorite Easter candy. I hadn’t been able to find it all season so when I did, I grabbed several bags and threw them into my cart.

Here’s the surprising part – I didn’t even look at the price. Here’s the unsurprising part – I ate so much of the candy that it made my teeth hurt.

Anyway, I didn’t have to sell a non-vital organ to pay for the candy. What’s more, Easter only comes around once a year and – teeth pain notwithstanding – my mom and I enjoyed the candy. So, I guess it’s okay if I decide once every year or so that the price doesn’t matter. Well, as long as the price doesn’t result in me having an attack when the cashier rings up my purchases.

I’m not sure where the second incident occurred. Apparently, my actions startled the particulars out of my memory. All I can say for sure is that when I paid for something somewhere, I was owed two cents in change.

And I told the cashier to keep the change.

My penchant for going to great lengths to pick up change has been well documented in this-here space. So, as soon as the words, “You can keep the two cents,” escaped my mouth, I questioned my decision. After all, what has all this been for if I’m going to turn around and casually refuse change as if I can’t find room in my life for two pennies?

I immediately considered telling the cashier I was joking about keeping the change, but that seemed weird, even for me. Still, the incident haunted me and caused a great deal of introspection. I wondered if I’d fallen victim to a mind-controlling experiment or developed another personality.

The two incidents remained on my mind as I walked to my car one evening. Suddenly, a shiny object distracted me and, before I knew what was happening, I had squatted to pick up a dime.

It’s good to know I’m still me.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

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