dear broken clock

Dear Broken Clock on the Kitchen Wall:

Well, I guess it was only a matter of time (no pun intended) until we had a little talk. According to you, it has been 2:47 for the past 3 ½ months. Unless this is some kind of weird, demented dream or some matrix thing that I don’t even come close to understanding, I think you are broke. Odds are, most likely, are that your double A battery is just dead. Should be a quick fix. But you know me, you know my lack of motivation, you know how easily I am distracted. My intentions are good, I look your way wanting to know if it is 9:00 pm yet, and I see you face shouting out to me that it is STILL 2:47, your hands almost waving me down, begging for a quick battery change, I know you want to be correct, to be accurate . . . . it’s who you are, I get that and I want to help you, then all of a suddenThe Office comes on and Michael Scott is at it again, I get to giggling and watching that crazy group at Dunder Mifflin, and the next thing I know, its bedtime and I’m ready to lay down. I think about fixing you, but I am just so tired. “Maybe tomorrow”, I’d say. And the cycle repeats.

You have to look at the bright side. You may not be very informative, but you still look good. The wine bottle, grapes and vines that are drawn on you that give you that wonderful decor all still look very crisp and clean. You match the kitchen very nicely. It’s safe to say, you aint going anywhere, no one could take your place. And let’s keep it real, twice a day you’re right! You know what I mean? Things aren’t too bad.

And if it’s any consolation, just know that it’s not you, it’s me. There is nothing personal going on here. You see what’s going on . . . . the smoke detector batteries, the furnace air filter, the oil in my car . . . nothing gets changed. I got issues, not you. I am so sorry that my laziness has affected you so. I realize that the half hour I spent writing you this letter, I could have changed every battery in the house. It’s just silly. I would fix you right now, but I’m getting a little sleepy. Maybe tomorrow.

Running Late,

Matt