So when I say it's a superpower, it's not really something unique to me, but then again, superpowers rarely are. (In fact, in most comics with superpowers, there are dozens upon dozens if not hundreds of individuals who have a power. If there were only one teleporter in the world, we wouldn't need a word for teleporter, is what I'm saying more or less; every time you see someone with powers that are given classifications, they are given classifications because there are others who have a power of that class in 99% of the cases.)
This superpower is absolutely worthless--in fact, even detrimental to have.
I swear that I have the superpower to slip into alternate dimensions that are almost exactly the same, except for one small insignificant detail. Usually revolving around an object. We're not talking large objects. We're usually talking objects that can be held in a hand.
Where in one universe, they are one way, the way I remember them. And then I shift into another universe, where they are somehow different than before.
For instance, the other day. I had my buttered toast that I packed for lunch as is typical, but because I didn't have time to eat all the eggs, I stuffed the remainder of the eggs inside the toast (which makes it act as makeshift french toast--rather delicious!), knowing I'd have just enough spare time to eat it as a lunch later in the day.
Except...there were no eggs in the toast.
There was no mess anywhere to suggest the eggs had fallen out.
There was no evidence that it was a different toast sandwich; I only had the one in the lunch.
There was no evidence at home that I grabbed the wrong sandwich; there was nothing, nothing at all, in any spot where I could have done so. And my family made no mention of it. Which is important, because my mom commented on me having put the eggs inside the buttered toast; she caught that detail, so if I had somehow left it behind after taking the time to prepare it, she'd have said something, yet she didn't.
It is as if I started with the eggs, and ended up in a different universe where I didn't have them.
And today, looking at what I am CERTAIN is my box of chocolates I received from a patron at work as a gift near Christmas.
I ate half of them the day I got it.
I ate all but two or three pieces some time later.
I then finished it off, or so I thought, later than that.
But in spite of me being sure it was empty.
During the latest power outage I experienced, when fumbling for the light on the table those chocolates were stored on, I dumped it--and much to my surprise, there were about half a containers' worth of chocolates present, which I messily put back in a rather jumbled order.
I peaked inside today.
And the box is completely filled to the brim. And while there is evidence of it having been dumped. Only two pieces are in the wrong spot. I am absolutely baffled by this, because I am quite certain that it's the same box it has been since the day I received it as a gift.
It has the plastic still clinging to the box in the amount I remember. (Admittedly this is a hazy detail.) It is stored the same way I remember--the sheet on top covering the chocolates below, but the box open (because it's supposed to be empty!) rather than having the lid on it--the lid is underneath said box. And it's definitely the same box type; the Hershey's Pot of Gold containing various chocolate-covered caramels.
There's just no rational explanation for it. I know I ate at least some of them. If it were a different box, I could maybe understand. If it were something which was identical to what I got, I could understand. And yet, there's no way that makes sense in spite of it being the only "possible" conclusion, because if my family got another one, they'd have let me know about it; there's no reason they would leave an open container with all the chocolates still there. And so on and so forth and whatnot.
Literally my only other hypothesis for this other than slipping into an alternate dimension is that I have inadvertently discovered a bottomless pit of chocolates, some artifact that after an unspecified amount of time will replenish its stockpile of sweets.
I am going to go insane. ("Going to?" Hmm, fair.)