Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to be going against you? It all begins when you wake up to find yourself tangled in the sheets. Naturally, you try to get yourself untwisted. But the more you attempt to unravel yourself, the deeper into the sheets you go. Eventually, you end up rolling off the bed, as the sheets magically unwrap themselves on the way down, as if they’d never been a problem to begin with.
Slightly irritated, but still a little groggy, you venture into the bathroom to pull yourself together. But as soon as you flip the switch, the light burns out, leaving you in the dark long enough to slam your toe into the toolbox you forgot to remove from the middle of the floor the previous evening. (And why did you bring a whole toolbox into the bathroom anyway? You were only going to hang a picture, so all you really needed to bring was a hammer and a nail…not the entire collection of Stanley Tools you got for Christmas.) Nevertheless, you curse the toolbox and the defective light, and hurry downstairs to the kitchen to make yourself a nice hot cup of coffee. At least that will make you feel better.
Only you forgot to buy a new supply of coffee, and the only thing resembling caffeine in the household is an old can of International Flavors somebody gave you for Memorial Day a few years ago. (Who gives presents on Memorial Day, anyway?) The flavor is some kind of mint chocolate guava mixture that sounds more like an ice cream than coffee, but you open the can anyway, hoping that a quick shot of caffeine will help you face the day.
After preparing the coffee and taking your first sip, you notice something strange about the contents. The coffee appears to have a crunchy aftertaste, which you find a little odd. So you reopen the can of International Flavors to take a closer look. Sure enough, the powdered mixture appears to be moving. You quickly spit out the remaining coffee in your mouth and run to the bathroom for Listerine. Only you forget about the missing light and the toolbox (which you still have not removed from the middle of the floor), and once again slam into it with your toe. Although this time it’s the other toe, so at least you’re getting a fair distribution of pain.
After cleansing your palette of any residual maggots, you decide to take a shower to clear your head. But once you step into the shower, you slip on a small piece of soap lying on the floor. You manage to catch yourself by grabbing the shower caddy attached to the wall, an action that has more consequences than you could possibly anticipate. First, the caddy comes unhinged from the wall, sending you downward again. Then, on it’s way down, it manages to open, spilling its entire contents allover your body.
And this is when you finally lose it. You begin swearing and screaming at the shower caddy as you throw its various contents out of the tub. One of the bottles manages to hit your bathroom mirror, cracking it ever so slightly in one corner. Another bottle lands in the cat box on top of a freshly produced pile of crap. Each of these incidents causes you to get even angrier, until every inanimate object within your reach becomes your enemy. The rugs on the floor are ready to trip you, the toothbrush wants to stab you, the scale will lie about your weight. It seems like everything around you is on a mission to drive you mad. And the more irrational you become, the more it seems like you’re on an episode of “When Inanimate Objects Attack.”
If I were being logical, I’d realize all the mishaps I suffered were my own doing. But since I can’t possibly blame myself for such antics, I tend to lash out at the objects around me, as if they were formulating a giant conspiracy against me. It’s stupid, I know. And ridiculous. But it’s one of those behaviors you don’t realize you’re doing until after you’ve already done it. And by that time, you’ve already destroyed half the bathroom with a passionate need to avenge your honor.
But that’s just me. Have you ever gotten irrationally angry at an inanimate object?