Pliers

The drawer is broken. It closes fine but when I try to open it, the roller falls off its track and gets stuck. I have tried several ways to fix it but nothing works. In my frustration, I yank it open almost breaking it to pieces. I have to lay off it. Fast. Or I will break it beyond repair.

I let it be for a few minutes, and put some music on hoping to calm my nerves and for great ideas to come to mind. I searched for Acoustic #3.  Yes, I need something more powerful than the seething desire to just burn the damn thing and DIY another storage this weekend. And what could be more powerful than depressing over the fact that I cannot remember much about the last two decades? Except that I learned to drive and, well, found out that we could go as low as electing misogynists and human rights violators into power.  

I turned the volume up, and yeah, what’s the point in all this screaming. No one’s listening anyway. I went down and found Robin talking to the stray cat (I call her Kitty to be original) that regularly visits now, after I have given it food. Kitty’s still not allowed inside the house, but I suspect that Robin lets her in when no one’s home. I am pretty sure they must be talking about how kitty can come back after 8 o’clock tomorrow, so she can have all the leftover fried eggs. Sneaky.

The other day, they were plotting over how Robin would leave the window ajar, so Kitty could slither in. I found traces of the marinaded breakfast under the table when I got home. Not this time, Kitty. You may fool Robin with your soft, fluffy fur, but not me. I lock the windows and Robin gives me his doggie stare. Pft.

Then I remember that I have pliers in the tool box in my car’s trunk. I should be able to squeeze the drawer track with it enough to prevent the roller from falling off. I can still feel his stare, but I ignore that and go on to give the track a little squeeze. And, then, some more. I replace the drawer, hoping for the best. Acoustic #3 is still in the background. What’s the point in ever trying? Nothing’s changing anyway. We are still suckers for sleazy and crass jokes by tough politicians, who demean our mothers. But it works! I mean the pliers.

I am not sure if it were the weight of the music or the feeling of lightness from my revenge on Robin and Kitty that fixed the drawer. Or if it were just the pliers. Whatever it was, it would be cool to have something similar for what’s going on in the news at the moment.