Oh I was so poetical about the kintsugi a few weeks ago. And I meant it, too.
But everything went wrong yesterday. A bunch of little hints showed me my car had been broken into the night before (it was unlocked, but things had been taken out of the glove compartment, just a little more chaos than usual). The lucky thief stole my gym bag and some JUNK from the trunk.
Though it was funky junk:
(1) A box of recipes "from a woman who hated cooking." Gavin's mother's yellow file box of Betty Crocker crap, handwritten, recipes with mostly canned ingredients. She didn't even like to eat. But I thought this awesome item should go to Tarrant Figlio after I heard her speak at BlogHer. She didn't look too happy when I told her about it, and it's been sitting in my trunk for months. Tarrant, you're welcome cause now it's the treasured disappointment of someone who hoped for an iPod (Nyah, nyah! I lost the iPod last month just so he couldn't get it).
(2) A tea pot and two mugs shaped like anatomical hearts in green and red ceramic. Heavily textured and complete with aorta, etc. This was a wedding gift (I told you Gavin had heart problems?) and while it was artsy, there was really nothing we could do with it. Recently a good friend, a genius intellectual art lover, had a bypass and I thought: REGIFT. Awesome! Hon, you're out of luck too.
I hope that bastard thief is as mad at me as I am at him.
Then I had several extremely exasperating lack-of-customer-service experiences (changed my mind: Don't save the fucking banks after all!) and broke a favorite bowl, see above.
I usually keep broken china for an "art project" but that's just plain stupid when I'm already completely overwhelmed with all the shit I've saved. Anyway the box of broken china is already packed and deep in the POD.
(Yes, thanks, I already know I'm crazy.)
*sigh*
So I guess that goes in the trash too. Trash Tuesday.
It's just a broken bowl. But somehow, around now, with everyone around me slowly losing faith, it seems like more.
(P.S. Wednesday was better. I got a Wave invite, fixed the bank thing, and got some other stuff done, but Mr. Fresh is in the worst mood I've seen yet. OK, maybe Wednesday was just not Tuesday any more. Good 'nuff.)
* * * Comments * * *
10 comments:
Some days are just total shit and not worth saving. The best you can hope for on those days is for tomorrow to come after a reasonable night's sleep.
So, here's hoping for tomorrow.
:-)
Let's face it -- November often sucks, whether you're a widow or not.
Being widowed can make us feel as though the whole world is ganging up on us.
And even though we're paranoid, that doesn't mean that the world isn't out to get us, right?
Hi - I've got nothing helpful or constructive to say except - poor you...
It made me laugh to think of this idiot opening up his loot and finding...some old recipes and some anatomically correct china! Ha-ha - serves him right.
I don't think it's the fact that more bad things happen to us than 'normal' people. It is, for me at least, that when something goes wrong, HE isn't there to pick up the pieces for me, pat me on the back if I've been brave, kiss my scraped knees. Sorry - going off to have a sniffle in a corner now...
My homeopath, who is a very wise woman, recommends smashing china as a form of therapy. Maybe you could use your already broken bits to break even smaller?
Here's a great new book to help. Real world advice for parents and caregivers of children who have lost a loved one.
A Healing Place by Kate Atwood. Check it out. http://tiny.cc/BtS5O
I am noticing on days like this that I face, that when they happen they really consume me and bring me down. I end up riding a really bad roller coaster. But the next day, things are a bit better and I find that I can quickly forget all the crappy stuff that went on the day before. Thank goodness.
PS - thanks for the add to your blogroll! :)
Thanks, friends! Your comments helped me through, as always!
X
Supa
LOL, I was happy about it. I have thought a billion times about bugging you to ask if you were serious because I would love to have it. Then I thought nah, she has decided to do something with it herself.
Tarrant, well then, I am really sorry because it was kind of an exceptional pile of junk. If I could contact the thief, I would (and then I'd punch him for taking my NEW SNEAKERS).
Keep up the great cookin' and childrearin'!
X
Supa
I know and I am sorry-for the loss of the sneakers and for the violation of your space and stuff especially.
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