Do you ever become emotional even though you know you shouldn’t be? I mean, yes, we all get that way occasionally, but I didn’t really think that it would happen to me today.
Josh is gone for a week and I started my new job on Wednesday. Today I see that my parents are still hanging around Bellevue when I get off of work so I meet them and we head to Whole Foods to get some dinner. After dinner we head to Best Buy so my parents can contemplate buying Season 3 of Boston Legal.
In any case, by the time we were all done with that and I was home it was already past 6:30pm and my feet were not happy about it. I’ve also been gone a lot this week what with working and spending every other night on the island with my parents, so I didn’t have a chance to attack the massive amount of dishes in the sink. Literally, we were out of silverware, cups, and plates. It was pretty bad.
So, I check my e-mail and the like and get to washing the dishes, something I wasn’t particularly looking forward to. But in the end it was a good idea (aside from the obvious reasons) because Josh managed to catch an earlier flight home and I didn’t want him coming home to the petri dish that was our sink.
After those are done I decide to tackle one of the two sweaters I got at the thrift store with Lisa this week… a light blue half acrylic half angora sweater that will make great scarves and hats. Unfortunately things with this sweater didn’t start out nicely. Sure it’s slightly felted and I can deal with that, but for some reason one of the chain stitched threads was giving me a very hard time and I eventually put the whole project down to start on some other time.
So far my evening wasn’t the greatest, and do you want to guess what happened next?
I abandon the sweater and grab my laptop to sit on the bed to listen to some podcasts. I’m doing fine for about half an hour when suddenly I hear something. I look up, and our wooden bookcase (the one with all of my jars of tea, cookbooks, knitting books, and other random things) is in the process of toppling over, toward the kitchen.
And of course my tea is on the first two shelves, which are the ones that have no problem reaching the hard floor of the kitchen instead of the carpeting throughout the rest of the apartment.
I felt like yelling “four!” or something similar. It was a fairly surreal moment: I saw the bookcase start to fall and there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I just watched.
I sat there and thought about what had just happened trying to tell myself that I can be cool, so I get up and to assess the damage. It looks like at least one glass jar has broken, and numerous other glass jars have opened and spilled all of their tea on the kitchen floor.
Mostly though I’m concerned for the books, because some of them might have fallen at funky angles and I didn’t want them to get bent too much. Here’s the thing though: While I was on the floor stacking the books into mini-floor piles I was thinking about what Josh might think if he walked in now and saw the carnage (heh).
I decided to try and call Kate to vent about the recent fiasco. As I was leaving a message on her voicemail it became harder and harder to talk. And for some reason at that moment I started crying.
Yup. The waterworks were officially turned on without permission.
I’m not really sure why I started crying. I’m not usually the type to get upset over things like this. I didn’t even have thoughts running through my head when I was crying… I was just crying.
At that point I thought, “fuck it.” So here I am, writing this entry with what looks like some kind of explosion behind me. I’ve removed all of the books and piled them up nicely on the floor in haphazard formations, but other than that I haven’t touched a thing.
Oh, I did tread lightly into the kitchen and attempt to clean up some tea that had spilled out of its jar, but that just made me feel like crying again, so I gave up.
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