The fall of the Vase

The vase sat upon its pedestal and coolly serveyed his neighbors, if he had been in the possession of a nose, I am sure he would have been looking down it, and occasionally would have given the occasional disdainful sniff. None of them were even worthy of being in his presents. The only one close to his high rank would be the long legged marble topped table he sat upon, but even he was not above rebuke, he had one leg that was shorter than the other three and had a tendency to tremble when someone with a heavy step walked past. The vase had found it prudent to rebuke the pedestal on several occasions about this flaw, yet the table had failed to do anything about it, with the feeble excise that he couldn’t do anything about it.

  The last day of the vase began like any other day, but then the earthquake began. The vase began to rock back and forth upon the table. Vase began to scream at the table to stay still but like always, the table excused himself by saying he couldn’t do anything. The case rocked at first very quickly and in short rocks, but it didn’t take long for the earthquake to gain momentum causing the vase rocks back and forth dilate until the ornament was thrown asunder and crashed to the floor, breaking into a thousand pieces; and so, ended the tyranny of the vase over the other item occupying the living room. No one mourned the vases violent death, with the exception of the pedestal. Despite the vases snootiness, the piece of furniture had grown quite fond of him.

  As time elapsed, the table became apprehensive when he wondered who would take the vase’s place. Would it be worthy to adorn his fine marble top? He grew so frantic by his fears that he fell over, his short leg having cause the other three to grow weak during the earthquake. In falling he too broke and the two most distinguished of the living room’s items went out with the trash that Friday.

Breakdowns

Sometimes when things in your life are compounding themselves on top of you, you need to make sure that they don’t start to pile up inside you too. Eventually your suppressed feelings will break out of you and spill all over the place – which is my colorful way of saying: “you’re having a breakdown babe”.

  Crying, screaming, and yelling are often the symptoms of a breakdown, but they can also help prevent you from having a breakdown. I know, it sounds counterintuitive, but I find it to be true. But these mini breakdowns or what not are actually healthier than letting them build up to the real deal.

  Also when you breakdown, you are not in control of what your breakdown will be about, and it can be over something stupid, and may have only the slightest connection (or no connection) to what your breakdown is really about. It’s better to have the little breakdowns that you can control when and where they will happen, than just snapping at that last straw that broke the camel’s back.

Clumsy

I’m really clumsy. There I said it. Always have been, always will be, I think it’s safe to say everybody has clumsy “spells” but some of us are born clumsy, and we just have graceful “spells”. I wish I would have one soon, before I lose an appendage. It’s been crazy lately.

On top of the ordinary bumps and bruises that I inflicted upon myself on a regular basis, I have one freaky accident, or one bump or scrape that’s more serious than the rest, or something that could have been avoided, had I just paid more attention every two or three months. This week I’ve had each of these things:

1. The Avoidable Accident
Friday, I’m baking cookies and the timer goes off. I can’t locate an oven mitten within the first three seconds of looking, instead of looking a little longer, or asking where one was: I grab a towel, thinking: “I hope this towel’s thick enough…Nope, guess not….ouch! Cookies were saved and I had a huge blister on my right hand index finger, and a little one on my thumb.

2. The Serious Scrape
Last night I got up from my futon to go to the bathroom, and I felt my bed tilt with me. So, I lean back so that I don’t flip it over and I think it flips all the way back. When I come back from the bathroom and climb into bed I feel the futon is at a slant, but I’m sleepy, so I’m not sure. I lean over to feel if the futon leg is on the ground or in the air: sure enough, as soon as I find the leg bottom the futon shifts and lands on the floor, with my right middle and ring finger squished in between. Luckily nothing was broken, however, I did bruise my ring finger a little, and I scraped layers of skin off of my middle finger.( I had no idea the futon leg was that sharp.) So now I’m out of practicing piano for a few days, and I’m typing with only nine fingers.

3. Freaky
This morning I was playing with a pen; and the clasp for pinning it on a shirt broke off and a piece went flying straight into my eye. My eye wasn’t scratched, even though I hadn’t had time to blink to keep the foreign object from hitting my eyeball, but it sure did make it water. I walked around like a one eyed pirate for about a minute.

All in all, I hope that this was the last of my accidents, because frankly, I don’t want to know what might happen next.