Saturday, 30 May 2009

Things fall apart.

No, I'm not referring to the Chinua Achebe novel (of course, it just made me think about the novel and, realizing how little I remember of it since I read it years ago, I had to go find a quick plot outline to refresh my memory). I'm talking literally: things fall apart.
  • Tried to cut the lawn and only managed to finish the backyard since the right front wheel fell off.
  • Found a cracked glass in the cupboard. Many of our dishes are being dropped or getting cracks or chips in them.
  • Opened a window the other day and some little piece of plastic, plugging a hole in the other pane frame, was jutting out just a little too much and the edged was snapped off.
  • And, of course, the "0" button on the laptop I'm writing this on has been waiting in the case for weeks now, for me to get it reattached.
Things fall apart. I was thinking about how horribly unfair this is, how this is all I need, what with money being tight and having no luck in finding a new job for after my current contract ends. But of course, things fall apart. Things break. Things die and rot and gather dust and get loose or get rusted or whatever the age-related verb is for any given inanimate object.

Get over it, bub.

Things fall apart. Get new things.

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