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As usual, by the end of the trip through the thrift store, our shared cart was full of random stuff - I grab everything that catches my mind, and then, before checking out, go through the cart and jettison the stuff that doesn't quite appeal enough to trade money for, after all.
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Many things were discarded in this process, but I could not bring myself to get rid of one specific item.
I was bemused to find myself struggling to justify why I felt so compelled to buy this thing - to myself and to my friends ... who found my efforts amusingly incomprehensible.
"I don't know - there's just something satisfying about it -
I like the materials, the construction maybe -
the connotations are somehow pleasant to me.
I don't know. I just feel like I want this in my house."
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Finally, I decided to go along with my fading post-Tomales Point intuition kick, and just let myself be guided - by instinct, by magic, by whatever the hell it is.
So I put it back in the cart with the other "keeper" items, saying,
"Well, I don't drink tea very often now, but maybe I'll start."
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Yes, the object I'd decided to buy was a teapot.
It had grabbed my eye and sucked me in from halfway across the store, up on the high top shelf. I'd been strongly drawn to it ... even though I don't usually wander into the housewares section ar all, and have never considered myself to be the kind of person who owns - let alone buys - a teapot.
Regardless, I bought the teapot, and brought it home with me.
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Synchronicity >
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