Friday, October 3, 2008

Stressball (Januari 2007)

My beloved husband owns a stressball. A very old, red, mushy stressball, which has obviously seen much use already. That stressball was in the apartment before I was and of course I never considered throwing it out. Now however I am starting to have my doubts. I think that it is planning to take over the apartment. Or the world. One never knows how grand a stressball makes it's plans. I caught on to his plans a few days ago when once more the stressball ended up in the living. I don't know how it happens. Neither of us actually uses the thing. But it creeps into our minds whenever we enter the study and whispers: "Pick me up. Pick me up. I'm red, I'm round. I fit perfectly in your hand. Pick me up. Just for a moment. You know you want to." And either of us ends up holding the stressball and carrying it all around the house, throwing it, squeezes it, and leave it at some completely insane place like the kitchen table, the bathroom, or the couch. Where it again will sing it's seductive song: "just pick me up... pick me up" And we do it all over again. I don't know how many times I have resolved to bring the stressball back to the study. I don't know how many times I have actually brought it back. But time and again it finds it's way back into our lives....
You just look around your house today, if there are no other objects that are secretly planning a take over. I think I'm on to something here.

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