Irrelevant to the post, but it is summer and this is all I have on my phone right now. Anyway, it would be creepy to do a photoshoot of the things I mentioned below…
Let’s get started!
The forever-empty tissue paper box
In the house I live in (parental mansion), we have many spots reserved for a tissue paper box. Every two-step, there is a box: a wooden one, plastic one, crochet one (grandma art)… I used to think that they magically refill themselves, like my stress levels. Now that the parents live abroad, I discovered that not only do I have to refill them manually but that each box needs a special brand. God forbid, if I ever put in the kitchen box the same quality tissue paper as in the bedroom one. As many times, as I remember to refill them all accordingly, there will ALWAYS be an empty box in the house. And weirdly enough, it will be the box I reach for the most.
“Oh it is empty, I should refill it!” Naaaaah…
“Oh it is empty, I should refill it!” Hmmmm, what if I do not refill it and, instead, remember that this one is empty and reach for another one? Logical thinking!
“Oh it is empty, I should refill it!” Dory get out of my body!!!
For real though, who am I kidding? Why refill the tissue paper box when I can refresh my Instagram feed instead?
The dead sarsour (cockroach) on the balcony
I rarely see a living sarsour at home (thank God) even though (deep deep down) I know that there might be some of them living la vida loca somewhere in the house, running, flying, feasting, being sarsouri and stuff. Let’s face it, it is sarsour season and we have balconies, plants and a guinea pig, so the house is kind of a free 5-star luxury hotel for them right now. So when I happen to see one of them, is when it is already on its back, doing some weird leg moves (what I actually do in abs class). I feel sad for them though, agonizing. I am sorry, but the idea of saving them, killing them or touching them makes me cringe. So if I see a dead sarsour on the balcony, it will likely stay there for at least 3 days before I get my shizz together and remove it.
“Sandr, there is a dead cockroach on the balcony!”
“OMG where?!?!?!” LIES. I know Dead Bonnie was already there 2 days ago.
Last time it took me 10 minutes and a master plan to remove it. 2 paper bags, multiple hands choreography, 3 squeals, 1 ounce of sweat and 0 guinea pig cheer LATER, I managed to transfer Bonnie to the trash bin. “What if, it was still alive and has now six packs from the leg twirling???”. 4 squeals. I AM SORRY SARSOUR, NEXT TIME I WILL TRY TO SAVE YOU ❤
The broken Tupperware
Our relationship is the strongest and no one will ever change that. I am all about body positivity and empowerment. Scars do not scare me. As long as the Tupperware closes and does its job I will never get rid of it! Annnnd for some reason, it will become the most used plastic container eva. (Nothing new). I am sure we all have some broken ones in our kitchen: they are not expensive and very easy to replace but oh-so-lovable! The cucumber Tupperware in my fridge has an injured lid from being on duty and serving its country (aka The Republic of KitchenLandIstan United). The emotional attachment I have for it is indescribable. And if it happens to be a broken gift-from-a-dairy-brand-plastic-container, I will definitely MARRY IT (if I ever catch the bouquet at a wedding).
Do you agree with my list or do you make friends with cockroaches? TEACH ME HOW!