Broken Mug, Broken Heart
Saturday morning I was rushing to leave the house to pick Kelli up for brunch. In my haste I knocked a mug off the counter and it shattered.
MY ALL-TIME FAVORITE MUG!
The mug my mother gave me when I graduated high school and moved away. I’ve used it almost every single day since.
I picked up the pieces and gently placed them back on the counter where they sat for two days. Partly because I’m lazy, and partly because I’m sentimental as shit when it comes to anything my mom give me… with the exclusion of guilt trips.
Tonight I realized there was no way to fix the mug, so I sucked it up and threw it away. I felt sick afterward. SICK over a silly, little coffee cup.
The point? I’m not freaking dead inside after all. But I am really damn thirsty.

