I am having a bad run with things. I’ve always claimed not to care much about material things so long as life was comfortable. I suppose if that were true I wouldn’t be quite so angry about the following:
Last week, someone who is not me dropped my digital slr camera in a mud puddle and broke it.
Yesterday, someone who is not me KILLED my clutch during a badly failed attempt at trying to drive my car.
Given that I can’t afford these kinds of repairs, I think my new policy is to never let anyone else touch anything that belongs to me ever again. I hate to be possessive – but until I truly don’t care about material things that much, I can’t help but feel this way.
I can forgive the camera because it was a genuine accident, but I am having a hard time not turning this into a hate-on for the someone who destroyed my clutch. Either you know how to drive a standard or you don’t, it’s not that ambiguous a choice. And if you knew how to drive at all you’d know that when you redline a car and smoke starts pouring out from under the hood, IT IS TIME TO STOP. But I guess if you are that person who consistently misrepresents yourself as “cooler” than you are, you wouldn’t want to admit to not knowing the first thing about driving standard.
I could turn this into a much uglier rant but I don’t want to hate myself in the morning.
