Eccentrically Different

It's almost as if I'm singled out

It’s like I’m singled out

Sometimes, I get very frustrated because no one seem to understand me just because I am slightly different than my family member. Would I call myself just a tiny bit eccentric? Okay, maybe a little but I don’t do strange things.  If I do, I do them because I was influenced by other people such as my mother, my mother’s friend, and my teachers.

A long time ago, in my elementary school days, I was taught to try new things and encourage others to try new things as well. That’s exactly what I did when my family came visit in 2012. I got them for the day when my mother had to go to work. I took them Downtown to the new mall and Temple Square.

I thought we would explore some sights together. Instead, the second we arrived at Temple Square from that short easy walk downhill from the Capitol, my aunt suddenly wanted to sit down and eat. Everyone else followed, leaving me just standing there. I wanted to scream, come on people. We still have all day and a lot of sights to see but I didn’t have it in me for some reason.

The moment everyone sat down, it was like the energy drained out of them, both the adults and the kids. I was the only one that had any energy. “What are you doing?” I asked as my aunt pulled out a big box of cherries from her bag.

“We’re tired and hungry.” She complained and then suddenly everyone else were too. It was like the entire family was controlled by this one single person.

I remember sitting there  for a long time, not wanting to eat myself, watching them scarf down cherry after cherry, cracker after cracker. Eventually, we proceeded across the street to the new mall and there, after one round (30 minutes tops), they went to the food court and eat again.

Anyway, another thing that sets me apart from this clone-like family is I am sentimental and don’t like to waste or throw anything away.

They are the exact opposite. I remember the first week after my cousin and aunt arrived, one night, I accidentally didn’t cook the drumstick all the way through. My cousin took one bite, made a disgusting look on his face, and said, “This is still raw.”

He walked around the counter to the trash can with the drumstick between his chopsticks. “What the hell are you doing?” I said.

“Throwing it in the trash.”

I quickly retrieved a bowl from the dishwasher and handed it to him. “That’s perfectly good. Just put it in here and microwave it.” How wasteful is that, right?

Another thing is I keep a lot of junk in my drawer, broken mouse, headphones, and mail that I no longer want. This is actually all thanks to whoever the high school English teachers was who taught me all about personification and as the result, I saw inanimate objects differently. Hmm, so I guess I am the eccentric one in the family after all or a slightly eccentric person in general.

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