Did I mention that SH joined me in Chicago when I was there for the conference? A paid hotel room - why not?
Did I mention how good the food was at the conference? And that my company allows only $35 for dinner? Which is not enough to get more than fast food in downtown Chicago? Or not enough to get more than just a bare minimum entree? No soup, no salad, no drink, no dessert? Not that I spend that much money on eating out in Milwaukee (BTW, $35 is not enough to get all that in Milwaukee, either), but when I am away from home and have to eat out, I like to do something nice.
What this means is that I was compelled to save yogurt and hard-boiled eggs and chocolate croissants (I would have saved chocolate croissants even if I had an unlimited allowance for dinner) so I would have something to eat in the evenings. I could have gone out to eat, but I would have been stressed about staying under the limit - sure, I could spend more, but that would have been my money - and annoyed at not being able to eat someplace good.
Besides, I don't really like eating out by myself. I barely like eating out with other people because it usually takes way too long and I would usually rather be alone unless I am with someone I really like. SH takes forever to eat. There is a reason we do not eat together at home. The main one is that he doesn't want to eat until after I want to be in bed, but the secondary reason is that it takes him 20 times as long to eat as it takes me and it is boring to sit at a table waiting for someone else to finish eating.
The other thing is that the $35 is a per diem, so if I don't spend it on dinner, I get to keep it.
A perfect storm:
1. I don't like eating out by myself
2. I don't like fast food
3. After a day at a conference, the last thing I want is to be around more people
4. If I eat a couple of eggs and some yogurt in my hotel room, I get to be by myself and I get to pocket $35. And I get to do this while watching three straight hours of Big Bang Theory.
I was at the conference all week. SH joined me on Thursday. Friday night, we had dinner with our friends Lenore and Rob, which was fun and not stressful because I have known Lenore for almost 30 years and it is very easy to be with her. Plus we were eating tapas and what's not to like about eating tapas?
On Saturday morning, as we were packing, SH called me a little old bag lady because I still had hard-boiled eggs and yogurt and chocolate croissants.
In addition, I had grabbed a few of those cute little jams.
Here is a question to consider: if someone else orders room service and then doesn't keep or open the little jams and then leaves them on a cart in the hallway, is it stealing to take the little jams? They have been paid for.
I don't understand why someone wouldn't keep them. The little jars are perfect for other things once you have eaten the jam. That's where I keep my migraine painkillers. Imitrex and relpax come packaged in these horrible blisterpacks that are very difficult to open. The last thing a person needs when she has a headache, especially in the middle of the night, is a blisterpack that takes several steps - and possibly scissors - to open.
So I open six of them at a time and store them in a little jam jar. I also usually only take half a pill at a time, so it is good to have an easy way to store the second half of the pill.
So maybe I saw some unopened little jams on a tray on a cart in the hallway and maybe I said, "Oh! Little jams!" And maybe I grabbed them and stuck them in my pocket and then put them in my suitcase next to the eggs and the yogurts and the chocolate croissants - because we had gone out to eat on Thursday and on Friday - and next to the little Nutellas because maybe I had saved two of them from the lounge at the Drake, which is where we stayed on Friday night with SH's hotel points that are about to expire.
And maybe SH called me a little old bag lady.
And maybe when we got home and we were unpacking, I saw that SOMEONE had also packed the little Lavazza coffee pods from the hotel room.
And maybe it wasn't ME, Little Old Bag Man.