Sometimes you’re the windshield.
There’s this phrase my dad uses, goes something like, “sometimes you’re the bug, and sometimes you’re the windshield.” I used to think it was oddly comforting, as if you’re always one step ahead of life catching up to you. I had a crappy day yesterday and instead realized that whether you’re the bug or the windshield, life kind of blows either way. But all things considered, I’d rather be the bug. Unless I get to be the windshield, pecking off useless little fuckers like “underemployment”, “student loans”, “mother’s approval”, yadda, yadda…
Where was I going with all this?
Ah yes. I paid $18 for mittens last week at Urban Outfitters. Pricey, but let me explain. These were the world’s most perfect mittens. I made a special tumblr post about them being so wonderful that I wanted to have sex with them. They were so warm and soft and lovely that I would often wear them inside. I used them as arm wrests when my elbows hurt from hunching over my keyboard. Yesterday, I left them on the goddamn train. I went to two different UO’s to try and find them and they were sold out. Now, I really wanted these goddamn mittens, so I sucked it up and bought yet another pair on their website…to the tune of $28, $10 of which was shipping.
Sometimes you’re the windshield.
But sometimes you have awesome fluffy mittens to wipe off the windshield.
…
There’s a metaphor or life lesson in here somewhere, I swear.
