The Impotent Satyr
Jeez loo-eez. Can I catch a break while reaching for a slotted spoon? I'm just trying to stir the macaroni noodles I dumped into a pot of boiling water. They're beginning to stick to each other, and I can't reach the previously mentioned slotted spoon because this funnel has decided to obstruct the contents of this drawer — yet again!
Why is the damn funnel even in this drawer? Why isn't it hanging up somewhere out of my fuckin way? It even has a little loop from which it could be hung. That being said, I haven't any hooks or nails protruding from the wall. Shit! I really need to grab that slotted spoon and stir those noodles.
I guess, technically, there are two hooks just beside my apartment door...outside. I think the hooks are meant for plants or decorations, but I have a funnel with no reasonable place for it to lay dormant and unused. Why am I even putting up with abuse from a tool I don't use? Alright, brute strength is going to get me out of this situation.
So, pulling and thrashing my hand about the inside of the drawer did next to nothing. Brute strength has failed me. My knuckle even sustained an injury from the potato peeler. I guess I could use the peeler to stir my macaroni but...then I'd have another starch-covered dish to wash. Ugh, maybe I can just reach my hand in and carefully pull it out.
OK, by touch, I can't identify what any of these instruments are in this god jammed drawer. My wiggling fingers may as well be trying to read braille — this is hopeless, and I'm pulling my hand out. Oh! I see the handle of the slotted spoon!
Oh... It's just the potato peeler, which shares the same handle as the slotted spoon gosh fucking darn it. Why did I put the funnel into this drawer in the first place?! What is wrong with me? My anguish knows no bounds. Fuck it. I'm closing the drawer and closing the door on this 3rd world situation. The funnel wins. My boiling, blob of congealed macaroni loses. I'm not even mad anymore; I'm just disappointed with myself.