This is how things go off the rails.
A while ago, I needed a pair of scissors. Not sure I remember what for, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest I needed to cut something. Either that or do something terribly dangerous they were likely not suited for, like open a childproof cap (since I probably didn't have a child handy to do it very easily).
Whatever the case, I needed them and couldn't find them. It's not that unusual a situation -- there's a reason I have three sets of car keys -- except it started a chain reaction that has led me to where I am today.
Right now, I probably have five pairs of scissors in my house. Could be more. In fact, that's very likely.
I'm not proud of this. It's not like I've stockpiled bitcoin or Ferraris. There is no attempt here to corner the market on fairly simple, semi-dangerous office products. They're probably worth more than rubles but that's not saying much right now.
No, I have them for the simple reason that one time I couldn't find a pair. So every time I go to the store and have successfully completed whatever shopping I need to do and my mind wanders into that dangerous land that starts with "Wow, that was easier than I thought and took less time. Wonder what else I need," my mind promptly answers "scissors."
My mind doesn't follow up with "but you bought those last time." I mean, that would be a best-case scenario, much like "so I called it an early night and went home and got eight restful hours of sleep," or "so I figured there's a reason you call it a 'ghost pepper,' and I passed."
No, my mind follows up with, "So go get a pair. You'll thank yourself later."
And that is why I own five pairs of scissors. Maybe more.
Also, I know exactly where the at least five (maybe more) pairs of scissors are. They're in that infamous "third drawer" everyone has in their kitchens that holds all those things you're not quite sure why you have.
Such things aren't silverware or sharp knives, but are one step up the food chain from old glasses or house keys or those now-20-year-old address books from your kids' elementary schools, schools now educating the offspring of many of the people listed in your address books as students.
My five (maybe more) scissors are in that "third drawer" next to skewers, a lot of plastic tongs from a certain fast-food chicken restaurant and a garlic press. I don't really know what a garlic press does. I assume "press garlic" (I mean, it is right there in the name) but to what end I don't know.
I do know that you can buy garlic all shredded up like it's through some device (a "press" maybe?) in bottles at the store. Which is a dangerous acknowledgement on my part, because that likely will rewire my brain to answer the "what do we need?" question with "scissors and garlic." At my age and general level of distraction, you have to be super careful with the inputs cause there's just no telling what the outputs will be.
Now, the challenge is how to turn that idea in my head off. Which is tough. At this point. I'm sort of like those trail ride horses that follow the same route every day from start to feed bucket, regardless of where you want them to go.
Routines, mental quirks, habits, all that stuff, are challenges for most of us, but as I've aged, I've discovered I tend to fall back (or fall prey) to them more frequently. I'm sure there is a diagnosis for that, other than "sure does have a lot of scissors."
I assume it's the sort of thing that makes me resistant to progress, desirous of doing things the way I always have. Even if the result is five (or more) pairs of scissors.
I'll need to work on that. Maybe use a shopping list on my phone (except I'll likely open the one that says, "buy scissors" and off to the races we'll be.
And worst case, there is some good that comes out of it. If you need scissors, there's a thrift shop near my house that has plenty. They say charity begins at home. For me, it begins at the store with "now what do I need?"