Trauma in an already chaotic life

It was one of those days. Or well, mornings. I had wasted 17 whole minutes searching between every lego, marble, and other things which I won't mention, for one bobby pin of any shape or size. Finally, I found one twisted in the corner of the art bin. Don't ask me how it got there. This shows my desperation level. I ran to the bathroom mirror. The hair pin, if you could call it that, promptly as if on cue, slipped out of my exausted hand and fell right down the sink drain.

Now sit for a moment and imagine this. Me, staring down the drain with a pathetic expression, longing for my well-earned reward...Alright. now stop thinking about that. Real fast. ;) Now, as i would, i started thinking about how that mistreated hair pin, may have been relieved to go. Maybe it felt that it's time was right. i could've helped it out. Perhaps it was sitting, all twisted, waiting for someone to take it out of its misery. Maybe it needed to break away from its current art bin enviroment, to bigger and better places. Maybe when hair pins turn 14 they get to go down 'the drain'. Upon thinking these thoughts, I concluded two things: 1. I'm good at making myself feel better when I make stupid mistakes, and 2. I'm completely insane.

After i had exhausted my mind with such intense thinking, i started out on the journey to find a replacement pin. No, I did not start chucking all of my hair pins down the drain, because when I found a whole stash of them under 'the hair box' 5 minutes later, I knew they were still happy where they were. :) They had already learned that going down 'the drain' wasn't all that. They too once moped in art bins, waiting...

It was at this time that i quickly decided that the reason I couldn't hold on to hair pins was not fate, but merely lack of sleep. I set my alarm for 9:45 and took a little nap...