Rinse and Repeat

The towel bar in my bathroom is broken.

Well, it’s not really broken, but the round part slips off the wall bracket and then the bar falls out and onto the floor.

I’m pretty sure all I need to do is tighten the little screw at the bottom of the round part so it stays on the bracket, but I’d need to get one of those tiny screw drivers and I’m not sure where  I put them.

Instead, I keep putting my towel on the wobbly towel bar and then I go to dry my face in the morning and the damn bar falls off the wall and onto my foot.

I understand that I’m just too lazy during the week to fix this, but the part that really puzzles me is why I keep rehanging the towel.  I keep thinking that maybe this time the bar will miraculously hold and the bar won’t hit me on the foot.

When the bar actually broke skin this morning it occurred to me, as I was reattaching it to the wall and rehanging the towel, that there was meaning in this nonsense.

This business that I’ve been doing at my sink each morning was a metaphor for life.

Why do I continue to do the same thing, knowing the outcome, and still expecting different results?

I think there’s a bumper sticker that says this is the definition of stupidity.

If I take the towel bar down until I fix it then it’s a glaring reminder when I walk into the bathroom each morning that something is wrong, broken.

I could just put the bar back up, but not the towel and then the bar wouldn’t fall on my foot.  But then how am I going to dry my face in the morning?  Again, this is a sign that something is missing or something’s wrong.

So, I rehang the bar and the towel, bury my head in the sand and pretend that everything is fine.  Nothing’s broken, nothing needs work, there’s no need to alter anything.

When the bar hits my foot, I can just curse at it and and be pissed off that once again the towel bar disappointed me and now I’m in pain.

People live their lives this way, and not just in the bathroom.  It’s hard to look at the ugly and the broken things.  I suppose some people just choose to live with the pain.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Reoccurring Dreams.

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