It sat there, squat and slightly askew on the mound of hardened snow next to the icy curb. Doors flung open, hinges frozen and sad. The broken curio cabinet once belonging to our upstairs neighbors had been sitting outside for the past three days: the three coldest days of the whole winter. I thought of it out there, being blown through and through by an arctic wind. A vortex of disappointment, there were no takers, be them garbage man or nighttime scavengers.
Discouraged, I shuttered the blinds.
A lot of people feel sad for other people. I feel sad for stuff. A lot of people call it personification. I call it Brave Little Toaster syndrome. You know, that movie where all the cartoon appliances are abandoned in a cabin and leave on a grand journey to find their owner? Well someone made the mistake of showing me that movie in the early ‘90’s. It may have made an impression.
The dishwasher needs emptying every two days or so. When putting away the clean dishes, I rotate out every spoon. Every bowl. Every piece of Tupperware so the clean things go on the bottom to rest while the old stuff stays on top to be used and feel needed.
“Just put the clean plate on top!” My roommate screams, tossing a clean knife onto the very top of the silverware tray. On top of the less recently used ones. The ones who have been bored and depressed at the bottom of the drawer, waiting for their time to shine. I don’t know how she can do this. It’s neglect. Abandonment! Not to mention it completely throws off the evenness of everyday wear and tear. I clatter the plates into order. New on bottom. Old on top. Forever in rotation.
When you’re walking down the bathroom aisle at Target and you grab the first shower curtain liner off the rack, and it’s ripped, what do you do? Studies show 99% of people put it back and paw through the remaining liners for an intact package, leaving perfectly good albeit imperfectly packaged shower curtain liners to live in unused disparity.
“But maybe they like being left alone. Maybe they enjoy being lazy and forever new,” my roommate says. I tell her she’s insane. I always take the ripped packages. I am the 1%.