Packing my Kate Spade black and white tote for work this morning alerted me to the realization of the events of the past year. There was a giant hole in my kitchen ceiling. Water leaked through from my upstairs neighbors' washing machine. The repairman, from the warranty company, forgot to re-attach the hose to the machine and water poured out for two days, before it found its way to my ceiling pouring through the lights in my kitchen. Luckily, into my sink. Truly no better place for a leak. My neighbor, the plumber and R were over. All to inspect and monitor the damage. The plumber could do no more than stop the leak. We needed a full on construction team to restore and repair (mold aside). Not to mention multiple insurance companies; his, hers and mine. Standing there, in the midst of my broken kitchen, with a broken relationship, that would later require adjusters, repairmen and construction, I witnessed a touching moment. My neighbors live-in girlfriend returned home and saw the conglomerate of people that had been amassed. With no words, just a gesture she swept her hand over his for a brief moment. They exchanged another knowing glance and continued to discuss the washing machine-kitchen-ceiling fiasco. Seeing them, understanding what they were knowing, made me understand and know what I had was not right. Given that the ceiling could not be repaired at that moment and knowing that there was only one thing can fix most issues, R and I headed to Nordstrom. I purchased the black and white tote. I bought it because I felt it could handle anything, given its size, color and water-proof interior (I had enough water recently). I knew it could handle all of my needs. I also knew that I did not have a meaningful exchange and that this relationship was NOT handling all my needs. Instead I had a giant hole in my ceiling and one my relationship too. I knew what I needed to do, $110, did not seem to be a lot of money considering what the tote had to offer.
Labels: Last Life
