puss pie in the sky
while listening to a song of hers that for some reason my machine is hammering me with lately in the shuffle, i dropped the pyrex i was washing and it smashed the juniors.
so much for another trophy of life of mine. i never intended to ever actually use the damn juniors glass, it should of been on a mantel somewhere and cherished, i just don’t have a mantel or suitable spot in this hole that is my home, or any drinking glasses. dammit.
i am trying hard to not read too much symbolism into this small event, yet it does seem timely as someone just gave me a set of 5-6 glasses, LM hasn’t answered a call or email in months and seems to have forgotten who i was all together about the same time it hit me how long ago and how far away she is in every sense when i wish she wasn’t…
this is why i shouldn’t be doing dishes, total and complete calamity with unforeseen and catastrophic consequences of symbolism. i fucking HATE doing dishes.
listen to some puss pie and dance to it, i do, but only when no one is looking.
or it could also just be that i am breaking all my special glass things recently, all by accident.