Those of you who know me would probably call me a generally upbeat person, right? Thanks! So Fridays (especially paydays!!) are pretty fun for me. Today was much like that - until i got home and found this:Ok, not exactly this, it was all strewn about, and there were more (smaller) pieces, but you get what i'm going for here. The plate was hanging on a wall plate rack, which apparently gave out today for some reason. (i dont think the cats had anything to do with this...) This is the beautiful plate that i picked out at a local craft fair in my hometown last fall. My mom bought it for Jamie and myself for a housewarming gift - i can't even begin to tell you the hoops we jumped through to get that thing into a carry-on (it's a large platter) to get it home.
So i walk in the house, in shock, feed the cats to get them out of my hair, and slowly begin to process the symbolism of this occurrence, like any good woman would do. "Moving so far from home was a bad choice", "My impending marriage is going to fail", "My life is a big fat joke", etc.
Then i think, "it has some big pieces, maybe i can glue it!"
Not with those tiny pieces, my friend. Plus there are just too many cracks, i think i may still do it, but just keep it as a memento that no one else understands, haha.
sigh, what a Friday.
**UPDATE: Diana came over and looked at the plate. she had a great idea! i'm going to make a mosaic table out of it by cracking the inner pieces up more and making it look like an explosion of the plate. to answer you impending question: of course i will blog about it! so this is really just "broken plate: part I".