(I found this post from an old journal, circa 2004)
I hate to admit it but I am compelled to do so anyway. I am sentimental. It’s something that I have just realized recently, thanks mainly to a small yet revealing incident/accident. I broke an old coffee mug and I felt very distressed. Call me nuts, call me weird but that was how I felt when it happened.I was reaching for my toothpaste on my cabinet when my elbow sent it crashing onto the floor.
But before going on, I would like to tell the story behind that mug. I have had it since third year high school or roughly a decade ago. During college, it was my companion when laboring through sleepless nights for an exam or when rushing a paper. I also brought it with me every time we had fieldwork. In other words, I had a special attachment to it because of the many years that we’ve been together. It was, in fact, my longest ever love affair. And ending it anytime soon was never part of my entire plan.
Meanwhile, as I was seeing my mug fall, myriad thoughts flashed through my mind. Thoughts about warm and bitter coffee, about math problems, about reports, about getting to work on time, about deadlines, about music and so on. Such numerous ideas in a five- to ten-second event.
Anyway, there’s really nothing better to do but to “mourn,” accept and move forward. Well, it’s hard to move on when I don’t have anything to use tomorrow. So, I’m buying a new mug at SM Department Store tomorrow after work. Still, coffee sessions will never be the same again.