Sometimes Things Are Just Plain Broken
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.)
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 * * *