In the third installment of Blogger Confessions, the topic du jour is “things we are not particularly good at”, or as one blogger confessee put it, things we suck at. This was a hard one for me to figure out, not because there is a shortage of things I suck at, rest assured, but because the most prominent issue that plagues me isn’t a task or a skill but a learned behavior (I think?) or a general state of being. I’m really bad at keeping nice things nice. I break things. I ruin items. I am careless and sometimes reckless, and, as Brad (I would like to think affectionately) puts it, I’m a disaster. When he says disaster he means it in a natural disaster kind of way - tornado, earthquake, tsunami -destruction that has no bounds, limits or prejudices when it comes to wreaking havoc. Let’s take the last week for example. I was on my bed with my laptop working and I get up abruptly for some reason knocking my laptop to the ground, I broke the charger port so that I now have to manually hold in the cord for my laptop to keep a charge. A couple days later, I spilled a full, hot cup of black coffee all over that same laptop. I then have to hit every key three times in order to get a letter to appear and my mouse skips all over the screen. By some miracle – as a result of my heavenly pleas – it started working again, it must just have been in shock for a couple of hours.
The travails of my iPhone are similar. The protective case was no match for me as it didn’t take long for it to break (and I’m kind of glad I did because I don’t like protective cases) and then my phone was left to fend for itself against my abuse. I’ve dropped it in the shower (yes, I know), on concrete, even onto the metro tracks as a train was pulling up, I missed my trench coat pocket. It was actually run over by two trains but was wedged in such a way that it avoided annihilation. The station manager got out his claw and I eventually dusted off the metal shavings and continued with my texting. This past weekend I spilled nacho cheese all over it and my speakerphone stopped working. Well, I can’t have my speakerphone not work so Monday I asked Brad if my warranty will get me a new phone to which he replied, I make sure you are always warranted against personal destruction, yes, it will. Good thing too, two hours before going to the Apple store I dropped it on the sidewalk again and a huge crack was sent all along the back of my pretty (beat up) white phone. The great news is that I wound up getting a brand new phone and an upgrade at that! I have a case on it now.
These are just two items in the past couple weeks to give you an idea of what goes on. I’ll avoid talking about the camera(s) I’ve broken (Brad gets upset about that topic because they are/were technically his and have been rendered virtually unusable), and the fact that I do not own any matching stemware or dinnerware because of my propensity for breaking things (I don’t mind that though because I’m not a fan of perfectly matching anything), and the stains on pretty much everything I own, and the tears in the heels of my gorgeous shoes (that does make me sad, but escalators are rough on heels!), and the scratches/dents in my car (that also makes me sad – I love my little blue benzy, I don’t mean to hurt it!), and the list goes on…
I often chalk it up as a good thing that I have such a loose grip on material possessions and that my emotions aren’t tied to their ruin, but I realize that it’s irresponsible and not very stewardly of me to be so careless. I do not apply the standard of care that is generally owed to my possessions and this fact has earned me a reputation. I am the first to blame in my family for ANYTHING that has been broken. It’s not fun, I’m defenseless against these accusations. Brad thinks twice before getting me anything nice, such a bummer. Although, I must say, parts of my reputation have put me in a better position – I never have to do laundry or dishes anymore:)
This is not so say I’m not careful with things I care about – just the opposite. I am crazy careful about dear items like the blanket I sleep with, it is washed and dried with care and I’ve managed to keep it in great condition (one piece) for the last 30 years. So, I confess that I’m sometimes clumsy and reckless but the craziest thing is that somehow things always even out. Something breaks, something better comes along, I lose something, I find something else, etc. I kind of value the lesson that comes through losing something more than the having of it. Of course there are physical items that have love attached to them, and those things I do love in return; but generally, I don’t like being held down by caring for things that don’t love me back.
image via here