I lost one of my black cordoroy (sp.?) gloves yesterday. I was sad for a minute since I lost it, but then I made myself think that I shouldn't be over-attached to material possessions, so instead I focused on the real sadness of the situation, that each glove since it is separated is deprived of its usefulness, and so I began to lament the waste of it all, and the real misfortune, which is that I didn't lose both at the same time.
My toe-nail I chipped a few weeks ago is growing back in raggedly. I looked at it this morning and its edge has caught black fibers from my socks, and they're hanging out from underneath it where they got wedged.
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