I have a lot of questions. Bonus points if you can answer them for me.
- Why am I addicted to saving dryer sheets? Seriously. I can’t seem to keep myself from re-using them. Mom got me an entire box before I came to college, and I’ve barely dented it. Someone help me. I’m a dryer sheet hoarder.
- Why is the white crayon the most used crayon I possess? That makes absolutely zero sense. You could say it’s because I colored a wedding picture for Jenna, but it was while getting my crayons out to color that picture that I noticed this strange fact. Twinsie #2–bless her heart–sent me the crayons in the mail, which means they were new last semester, which means that at some point in the past few months I rabidly used a white crayon. What am I, crazy?
- Who designs air freshener to look like yogurt? On a related note, who designs air freshener to smell like cough syrup? On another related note, who put a sign on the bathroom door warning library patrons not to eat the yogurt?
- What happened to the legs of Jenna’s pinata?
- What’s written on the inside of the box in which we keep the International Bulletin of Missionary Research archives, and who wrote it?
- What happened to that stick of butter I had in the freezer?
- I want to make brownies. Real ones, not brown letter “E”s this time. Though that was pretty fun. Ok, so this isn’t a question. It’s just how I’m feeling.
- Why do those guys sit at that table in the corner all the time? I feel judged whenever I get ketchup refills. Which happens whenever I get ketchup fills. Because I always underestimate my love of ketchup, and that is a fact.
- Why am I so mean to Katie? I actually like her a lot.
- Why do I do whatever anyone tells me to do?
Example A, an evening in the library
Kristen: Betsy, take Matthew’s wallet and put it in that drawer! Quick, while he’s not looking!
Me: Uh, yes Kristen!
(Twenty seconds later)
Me: Wait. Why on earth did I just do that? That’s stupid!
Kristen: Too late.
Example B, an evening in the dining hall
Me: Oooh. Ice cream. I want ice cream. But I’m not eating any.
Tim: You should eat some.
Me: No I shouldn’t. That is bad for me.
Tim: Get some ice cream. (stares judgementaly until I feel terrible for not listening to him command)
Me: No! Who even asked you to sit at this table?
Tim: (walks away dejectedly)
Twenty seconds later
Tim: Betsy, since you made me feel bad, you have to go get ice cream now.
Me: Fine!!!! Okay! Whatever!
Twenty seconds later
Me: Wait, why am I eating this?
Tim: Because I told you to.
Please, folks, I need a lot of help.