A few weeks ago I mentioned here and there that a cherished friend of mine had been torn to pieces by my own two hands. Here is the gruesome photo I took on that day:
I actually used the poor thing to death. It just fell apart in my fingers. It was very sad, I had a lot of memories with the old girl. It didn’t seem like it was her time to go.
And, after she was gone, I found myself freaking out at my desk constantly with nothing for my hands to do while caffeine was coursing through my system. Oh, sure, typing is the ultimate finger freak-out exercise, but when the words aren’t coming? Well you need a back-up plan or else you might jitter yourself into oblivion.
So, while I know she can never replace the original in my heart, I have allowed myself to let a new Rubik’s Cube into my life.
I’m sure she’ll fit in just fine. I’ve got a good feeling about her…
Also who the hell works a Rubik’s Cube to death? Jesus God I’m a freak.