Out to get me.

Resistentialism is defined as a “mock philosophy which maintains that inanimate objects are hostile to humans,” and at the weekend, while packing up my room, many inanimate objects ganged up on me all at once to inflict great pain.

Things were against me, that’s for sure. How can I explain how a wall curio display placed it’s way below my foot while my focus was distracted by an errant nail poking out of the wall, the sharp edge threading it’s way between my toes and deliciously applying cold yet white hot pain through my entire leg and into the base of my brain.

How could I explain, besides total lack of coordination, the pliers missing that same nail and biting into the fleshy bit of my palm and then, as a scrumptious third course, when pulling the tea towel off my bench, the resounding thump of a three pound milling leg, possibly the heaviest thing left in the room, tenderizing the second smallest toe on the same foot.

Yum, Yum, Pigs bum.