Why should things fall apart? In the last three weeks I have discovered a hole in one of my favorite (Liberty-print, sob) skirts, a grease stain on another, as well as have, after multiple “treatments”, chose that the blue mystery stains on a Duro I made are never, ever, ever going to come out, as well as that if I want to salvage the (also-Liberty, sob) fabric I used to make it I’m going to have to take the damn thing apart.
Entropy, I spit in your general direction.
And the worst, the absolute worst, the créme de la horrible of everything, is that, after months of diligent eBay-alert-watching, finding one more pair, in my size, of my ideal shoes, as well as after purchasing them, waiting breathlessly for them to arrive, waiting some more, waiting as well as waiting as well as waiting, as well as after finally getting a tracking number to check … discovering that some person with no regard FOR KARMA had STOLEN my precious shoes off my front porch.
If I see this person wearing MY shoes in the neighborhood … well, I probably will NOT run home for my useful anti-burglar cricket bat. Probably.
So I got my other pair re-soled. Again. as well as I bet the shoe guy, next Tuesday when I pick them up, is going to shake his head mournfully as well as say “No much more for this one, ‘kay?”
Entropy, if I see you coming, I will get my useful anti-burglar cricket bat. except that’s just what you would like, you sick bastard. I know! I’ll just make something new, instead. That’ll show you.
Picture is from Flickr, the photographer is Jari Schroderus.
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