The Candle Holder

Last night I shopped for bars of soap and candles, a pillar candle and a set of tealights.  The bars of soap were unfragranced.  The candles smelled of a waterfall, according to their packaging.  The candles were impulse buys. 

candle holder from the 1990's

This morning I wandered into the kitchen, according to my usual routine of an oatmeal-and-coffee breakfast.  Before starting the coffee and after popping the bowl of oatmeal in the microwave, I headed for the closet in the back bedroom where I knew the candle holder from the 1990’s would be stored.  I was confident that it would be in one of two boxes in particular. 

Heading to the back bedroom, I noticed a dark spot on the carpet as I passed by the living room area.  Actually, I noticed dark blue wax from the waterfall-scented candle on the taupe carpet.  I paused only for a moment, making a mental note to take care of the wax spill from the previous night as soon as I finished breakfast. 

In the back bedroom, there were two pieces of luggage stacked in front of the closet doors.  The two pieces of luggage were used as a visual in class last night.  Pushing aside the suitcases, I swung open the closet doors.  I heard the timer of the microwave sound off, indicating that the oatmeal was ready.  The opened doors of the closet revealed the vacant spots where the two pieces of luggage had been stored.  The two exposed areas where the two pieces of luggage had been stored revealed a clan of dead bugs.  Of late, my home has been invaded more than sufficiently with an insect that we fondly call roly-poly bugs, a.k.a. pillbugs or  Armadillidium vulgareHarmless but annoying, nonetheless, when invaded in more than sufficient numbers.  Reluctantly, I fetched the broom and dustpan, knowing that my oatmeal is ready to be eaten by the repeated beeps from the microwave.

Having swept up the tiny invaders, I pushed and shoved until the two suitcases were back into their earlier resting places.  I reach for the first of the boxes wherein the 1990’s candle holder might be resting safely.  Atop this box are items from the previous Christmas.  I grab handfuls of crinkled and used decorative tissue paper and other items of padding, wondering why these had not been tossed out at an earlier date and reorganized the Christmas stuff to rest better within a smaller amount of space.  I wondered if the oatmeal by chance had bubbled over in the microwave as the repeated beeps continued to warn me that the oatmeal is ready to be eaten. 

I reached for the aforementioned candle holder.  It was intact, looking still brand new.  Three nonessential and altogether useless trinket boxes came into view.  They are good for decorative purposes only.  They would do nicely to place along side the waterfall-scented candle on the coffee table.  The coffee table is in the living room area; I stepped around the hardened dark blue wax in the taupe carpet from last night’s candle spill on my way to place these nonessential, decorative trinket boxes in just the perfect juxtaposition to the new waterfall-scented pillar candle. 

The microwave sounded off, indicating that the oatmeal was ready to be eaten, for close to thirty minutes.  Thirty minutes after popping the oatmeal in the microwave, I sat down in front of the laptop to eat the room-temperature oatmeal.  I forgot about making coffee.  Even as I type this post, the wax spill from the previous night still has not been removed and my stomach is telling me that it is time for dinner.

Life happens.  We start out with a particular goal in mind and our impulses, we think, are but momentary detours but the incessant warning beeps in the background indicate something different.  By the time we wander back to our original starting place, much has happened and we find ourselves sitting down for what amounts to a breakfast of cold oatmeal and no coffee. 

You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

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