It is the little things that make us crestfallen. The real little tragedies are the things that were just ever so close.
Like the time we were just about to press play on a marathon night of Entourage and the power just went out. And then when I thought “ No problem we can play it on my Macbook!” we couldn’t get the DVD out of the machine. ‘Cause the power was off.
Or imagine the power going off in the middle of an urgent MSN tween chat with your best friend in the world! Tragic! ( Try explaining Ugandan power supply to a 12 year old at a time like that.)
These are the little things that matter so much.
How about the time I decided to have a rare after school nap and just as my head made contact with the pillow the electric saw and Mr. Mosque started their duet.
One time I arrived at the club excited for my latte ( please don’t even whisper Starbucks, I will hear you) and the expresso machine was broken. Just then, and only then.
I was crushed.
Chocolate doesn’t taste the same here. The Cadbury we get is either made in South Africa or Kenya and who would know geography can alter the taste of chocolate so much? It is not even the same food! Only 2 kinds taste similar and when you want a chocolate bar as a matter of some urgency and those two kinds are not available for love, money or wishes; it is truly, deeply sad.
(By the way many things taste different. Funnily the Alpen tastes of cinnamon.)
Right now I sit here very disappointed. Just a highly strung bundle of wants. Could someone please send over a Tall Non Fat Extra Foam Latte and a large yellow Toblerone? Pronto.