The 'Real' Junk Drawer
The experiences are many. The frustrations teeter at the boiling point. Whether you know it or not, your home is a disastrous web of tripwires set to blow with the slightest breeze. Landmines lie in wait prepared to blast your day into smithereens. Examples? Sure, I'll spoon-feed you a few:
The ONE sock that goes 'milk carton kid' on you from the washer to the dryer to your dresser.
The night you head off for a good night's sleep only to find that you tickled your ambitious bone earlier in the day and cleaned your sheets. The problem you now face is that you're tired as all hell, want nothing more than to get horizontal, yet realize you must make your bed first. Horrifying.
The one letter you send out once a year and snail mail be damned if you can't dig up a stamp from the bottom of any of your drawers.
The bathroom session requiring at least two baby wipes and you pull out the last of the bunch. God help you.
Some, or perhaps most of these slap-in-the-face situations seem to be life's little jokes played at your expense. Some rage-inducing predicaments. Some shrouded in mystery. Allow me to add another mystery I recently experienced....
We find our valiant hero (yours truly) rummaging through the kitchen begrudgingly putting together a pot of coffee for the day's workload. All I needed to kick-start my day was a piping hot cup of 'kick me in the nuts'. As soon as my cauldron of caffeine was set I went hunting for a cup to fill. What I found was sadness. The cupboard was as bare as my soul at that very moment. I stared for a brief period and immediately knew the explanation for this catastrophe. When the final piece of the puzzle fell into place I turned slowly to look down upon the dishwasher as if it were a dog who just got done pissing on my rug. Right now you're probably saying, "What's the issue? Just grab a clean mug out of the dishwasher and be done with it!" And sure, you're right. I COULD have made that very move. However in doing so I would have unleashed the wrath of 1,000 goblins and had the heat of 10,000 suns rain down upon my very vulnerable body. We have house rules and one of those rules is this: If you open a clean dishwasher you damn well better empty that prick or it's your rosy little ass on the line.
So now your 'hero' finds himself working through an unplanned chore. Only the worst kind. After what seems like a week long ordeal I finally get to the silverware. As I'm dropping all of our utensils into the drawer with the damn bamboo silverware tray (useless wedding gift #31) I notice something fishy. There is shit EVERYWHERE! Crumbs, dust, hairs, you name it, it's in there. My first instinct is to throw up and then it shifts to pure bewilderment. How is this possible?! I couldn't grasp the scene lain out before me. See, I thought that only clean dishes went into this drawer. How is it that this particular region looks like the floor of a high school cafeteria? To say I was perplexed is an understatement. So I cleaned out the crime scene and let it eat away at me for the rest of the day. I was a washed up detective who just couldn't solve his final case.
Maybe you're concerned for my well being. Maybe you think I'm a dirty bastard who lives like a slob. As for the latter, I'm OCD as shit and clean means CLEAN. I will not accept my ignorance of the silverware drawer as a valid answer.
It's just another one of the home's sick jokes. And you know what? I truly believe that whoever's behind the robbery of my single socks is the same maniacal deviant sprinkling garbage into my silverware drawer. Go ahead, take a peek. Tell me your own utensils aren't bathing in their own crusty confetti. If they aren't, good for you. If they are, best be on the lookout.
Life's out there and it'll get you.