You know how eating McDonald’s in some far-off exotic foreign city is the height of white-sneakers-with-jeans tourism? Well, I’m beginning to understand it. I’m definitely getting inflexible and set in my ways as I embark on my thirties.
I vaguely recall that when I moved to the US, I bought and brought an extra bottle of my favourite soap. This time, wow. I may never need to shop for toiletries again. I have stocked up. Now, there’s totally a defence if it’s stuff that Cin can get with her brilliant professional hair person licence at wholesale prices. But really, I’m stocking up on stuff I can buy at RiteAid.
The worse thing is that I didn’t realise how ridiculously far I was taking it until I bought two boxes of pens. Pens!
I also bought eight pairs of Fluevogs, but I’m strangely okay with that.
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