Our shower curtain won’t stop falling down. The whole thing. The pole and the curtain and all the many, many products in between it and the floor, they come tumbling down every couple of weeks, sometimes more. It’s fallen on my head more than once. It makes a loud clatter as it smacks off the side of the bath and onto the floor. It absolutely will not go back up when I try.
I like to think I’m quite handy around the house, and I’ve become pretty good at fixing things. But this curtain? I can’t do it. It defeats me every time. I can’t get it to stick. And this defeat is made worse by the fact that it always seems to fall when I’m having an especially bad day. It’s become almost a cruel joke. And I know it’s only a curtain. It doesn’t matter. But when everything in the bigger picture is going wrong, it tips me over the edge.
Have you ever noticed that? Really important, worth-talking-about life things can be going wrong but it’s actually those little things that really push your buttons and make you feel like you just might lose the plot altogether. Maybe this is where the line about spilt milk came from. I could probably deal with a bit of spilt dairy or a dodgy curtain if everything else in life was tickety-boo, but when is it ever? Work can be a clusterfuck of stress but I’ll deal with that until it’s lunch time and Pret have run out of my favourite salad at which point there may be tears. Or my messy flatshare home can be causing me to wonder whether it’s worth committing a crime just to get into a solo prison cell but it’s the fact that I can’t find my umbrella that finally tips me over, not the dishes that have been sat there for over a week.
Life can be falling apart at the seams but I can just plod on, keep on plodding, until that damned curtain collapses yet again and then I’m done. But who needs a shower curtain eh? Our shower’s so pathetic it wouldn’t splash over the side anyway… Ah, the joys of renting.