I remember one Christmas when I was younger - I forget how old, and I can't reason it out - one of the stocking-stuffer gifts I got from Santa was a pair of very low-quality plastic scissors. In an extremely uncharacteristic action, I decided they were worthless and destroyed them.
Now, these scissors were just about the worst and cheapest scissors you could ever find, and they probably would have lasted about a week if I'd used them. Even all these years later I feel a little guilty for breaking them on purpose, although their total value probably amounted to about fifty cents. I don't know why I should still remember it, let alone feel anything about it.
Mokalus of Borg
PS - This has been yet another introspective psychological insight (tm).
PPS - I still don't know what I'll do on Sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment