Last night my foot committed an unforgivable crime. I have since punished my foot with silence and I cannot look at it, much less touch it (or else I would have cut it off). I have mistrusted that left foot for years. And now it has proven to me why. My foot has killed my Kindle. I am in deep mourning. Kindle and I went everywhere together. We were best friends. I was even given a very cool Kindle cover (pink with an etched vintage typewriter on front) for my birthday. Who knew that a few days after receiving such a beautiful garment, my left foot would kill the body that inhabited it? I will eventually bury the Kindle in my backyard. But I can’t bear to be without it just yet.
This month is proving to be dangerous for other valuables as well. My dishwasher was making a funny noise – it sounded like it was aspirating. My house phone is all buzzy, and I almost lost my Track phone (sadly, I found it). And my favorite pair of sunglasses broke – I have no idea how that crime happened. Do you realize how hard it is to find sunglasses that look cool on this small head of mine? It took me years. Now I must search all over again. This is exhausting work my friends.
I’m afraid to touch my camera. I really am. I have threatened my left foot not to get anywhere near my camera. I may not be able to cut it off, but I know a few doctors who can, I know a few M.A.’s who would assist (and I’m sure Newbie wouldn’t mind trying his hand at an amputation since it’s my foot – he is such a mean thing). It’s times like this that working for a foot doctor comes in handy.
Why is it the things that I would love to break just keep hanging in there and the things that I love break or disappear, like my Sanza Fuse a couple of years ago (where are you Sanza?) and my turtle, Sam.
Where is the justice? Where is the mercy?