Who the fuck decided all sinks had to be so fucking close to the ground? I suppose, if we want to be fair, we can admit that sinks are nearer the level of our hands than say, our feet, but, and this may just be me, I can't seem to use a sink without having to bend the fuck over and furiously wring my hands about one another, straining my back and as a result, slowly losing the will to live. Maybe it's just this house. I'm living in a new house, using a new bathroom... maybe it was designed for dwarfs or sticky little children, that they may easier wash their sticky little hands. But I hate it.
I'm not really up on my Ancient Greek or Roman history, but it's my understanding sinks have been around since those guys decided it'd be nice to splash their hands about before eating, cooking, and I assume love making. If we've had the technology for thousands of years now, and I go on record saying that I've been to truck stop bathrooms and seen urinals stacked at different heights to better suit the varying tallness of the average trucker, why can't a sink be built at proper "even with my hands without having to bend over" height?
On a less cheery note, this is what's become of my life. I'm keeping a check list of reasons I shouldn't be living in Texas. So far I have:
- Tiny Sinks
- It's Freezing (air-conditioners are set at a temperature I can only describe as "absolute 2", leaving me generally unable move for fear of wasting vital energy needed to stave off the hypothermia)
- The Crippling Isolation
- The Very Real Possibility I Am In Fact Living In A Retirement Community (I haven't seen anyone under the age of 40 in two weeks... or maybe it's a result of the air-conditioning... everyone's freeze dried)
- My Mother's Howard Hughes-ian Fear Of Insects (I suspect crazy might be contagious, and while I do not feel the particular need to place everything I own in plastic Tupperware boxes and jars I feel it's only a matter of time before I grow used to the idea and begin vacuum sealing my underpants)
- The Fact That No One Challenges My Nihilistic View Of The World (I notice isolation makes me forget that I am certain of very little and my opinions are generally based on poor evidence at best. If I surround myself with myself, not only am I plagiarizing what I thought was Simon and Garfunkel but turned out to be Yes, I risk becoming, I shudder to say, religious -- in that I've removed the possibility of someone who isn't me calling challenging my silly ideas, or even better telling me I'm full of shit. I have difficulty telling myself I'm full of shit, and not because I believe the things I believe to be valid, but rather because I'm conditioned to abhor self righteousness and, I suppose I might believe, I can't criticize myself without, on some level representing the opposing viewpoint and, in that sense, passively extol my greatness.)
- I Feel I'm Regressing (In Vietnam I had enough faith in myself to wander blindly into the heart of Hanoi without concern for where I may end up because ultimately I assumed I'd find my way back to something familiar... The other day I brought my little GPS machine to Jamba Juice because I thought there was a chance I might get lost... My parents are cautious people, which works well for them, but I don't like facing the reality that I can drive from Cedar Rapids to Kansas City without directions on the vague notion I knew where I was going because I'd been sitting in a van with someone who did it a year ago and not seven days later be anxious navigating a few suburban streets. Granted, there's more opportunity to be lost in a suburb than on a highway, but I can't pretend the daring hasn't left my do.)
- Dogs (There are dogs in my house. I like dogs. I hate that dogs don't shut the hell up.)
- People Seem To Think It's A Moral Imperative To Wake Me Up (At random times on a given morning someone will knock on my door and ask if I'm awake, or on occasion, if I'm alive... I've brought up the possibility that this is a passive aggressive way of suggesting I should be awake at a particular time of day, and I've been assured that "We're not passive aggressive people," which is of course bullshit. Everyone's a passive aggressive person. It's the real building block of society. Focus on the Family can focus on my dick. I don't know where that came from... I mean, I'm really not a passive aggressive person.)
- This Place Is Not Very Interesting
