I Break More By 9 AM Than Most Do All Day

I left the house this morning kind of annoyed. It seems that everything I touched slipped out of my hands, or, I ended up knocking over instead of grabbing. It all started in the shower when I reached for the porcelain soap dispenser that I slaved over at Brush Fire (pottery place) one day when we first moved here, tragically this would be the last time soap would be dispensed from with in it closed container of a body, seems that there was some dried soap on the outside and once wet, became too slippery for me to handle. It's body is not so much like a closed container anymore. And to make matters worse, it was full of soap that I now get to clean up so the next person (who happens to be my wife) doesn’t slip and brain herself on the shower spout. I pause briefly and try to think if our life insurance is caught up, not coming to a satisfactory conclusion, I start cleaning up the slippery glass shard infected anti-bacterial mess. Since my hands are now slippery, I can’t get a grip on the big cup I’ve elected to use in the cleanup, and I send it bouncing around the tub with a maddening loudness that I didn’t think was possible. As it turns out, my shower is engineered perfectly to capture the acoustics and amplify them dramatically. More pissed than before, I move to pick it up and drop my towel in the mix. Super pissed now. I feel challenged by a higher power to beat this situation and come out the winner. Yet I can’t help but feel that I’m being toyed with yet thankful I’m not in the prison bathhouse when all this goes down.
I get it all cleaned up and break the news to my wife. I conceal my soap dispenser breakage in a warning that she should be careful upon entering the shower due to slippery-ness and then mention briefly that I fumbled my beautifully hand crafted (well, hand painted anyway) soap dispenser and its now part of the lineup of things I have recently broken, namely her favorite little ceramic plant pot this weekend. Within minutes of her telling me it was her favorite, I knocked it off its perch and sent it crashing. This looked particularly bad because I was in a pissy mood and not being as gentle in my moving stuff as I should’ve been, coupled with the fact that I now knew that this was her favorite pot. Didn’t look good for me claiming an accident so I uttered some choice curse words to prove my disgust with myself and to prove it was not intentional. So with all that behind me and clear-sailing ahead, I drive to work. Here is where I notice a peculiar trend that doubtlessly has been around as long at there have been power lines, or shoelaces, whichever came first. You guessed it, its the trend where some punk-ass kids take another kids shoes, tie them together and chuck them over the power line to become what seems a permanent addition to said line. I’ve noticed these two pair for sometime and I’m used to seeing them and shaking my head at the poor bastard whose had to walk home shoe-less twice and explain to his mom or dad why he lost yet another pair of shoes, well that poor bastard had to do it all over again because there is a 3rd pair now. I wonder how many tries it takes to nail it. Then I think, why are the still up there? Why won’t the city cut them down? Is it to tricky or perhaps not cost effective? I often think about this (sad to say) and wonder what would happen if you tried to knock them down with a long wooden stick, would the line arc and reduce me to ashes, I assume it will and leave it at that. In my travels, I often see people that I think are funny looking, today was no exception. While driving slowly through Coburg, I see a guy that bears a striking resemblance to Bozo the clown only without the red locks. He does however have the long hair on the sides of his head and a shiny bald path down the middle, you know the kind, it looks like somebody ran a lawn mower right down the middle then polished it. I cleverly nickname him “Patches” chuckle to myself and move on satisfied that my morning is turning a corner onto a more positive stretch.