Thursday, July 20, 2006

Buried deeply in the hearts of men is the belief that anything can be fixed, provided the resolve is fresh enough, the will set enough. That’s why Home Depots exist, I think. Previously I had looked upon them as depots of boredom, large warehouses filled with sundries useful only for constructing, I don’t know, shelves or something. What do people buy there, anyway? Tape? Hinges? S-s-s-screwdrivers?

I rescind this position, however, because lately I’ve heeded the call. There’s a toy store sensibility to the place, and for the briefest moment I considered owning a complete power tool set, the rationale for which I can’t fathom. I could see the set, you know? Hanging neatly across a wall. In the garage. All told, though, I’ve only bought an extension cord and a two-to-three prong outlet converter.

A few days ago, my air conditioner began exhibiting strange behavior. Parts of my apartment were humid, while other parts were cool–some real ley lines shit going on, understand, which I tried to fix using a complex system of levers, pulleys, and cardboard. Mainly cardboard. The results were mixed at best, so I went to bed dejected. The unit, bless its decrepit mechanical heart, chugged along smoothly in the morning. Sometimes, you just have to sleep it off.