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My backpack

I’ve had this thing since sophomore year of high school, which is to say, a really long time. It’s been well-loved, and so there are a number of spots where the canvas is torn, and a big hole in the leather bottom. I’m constantly losing things through said hole, but I let it slide because I’m a sentimental softie. Nothing frightens me more than the prospect of owning one of those trendy new yellow backpacks with 8,000 compartments, or worse yet, one of those messenger bags that the really cool kids carry. I don’t want to be one of those kids.

That said, today may have been the last straw. Walking out of the HUB towards Allen, the zipper gave out in a spectacular display, dumping my twenty-odd pounds of books, CDs, notebooks, etc onto the sopping wet walkway. To make things worse, I whipped around in surprise when the first notebook hit the ground, throwing the remaining contents even further. Luckily, everything missed the larger puddles, and passersby rushed to my assistance, so nothing got too wet. What pissed me off more than anything was everyone else thinking “sucks to be that guy.” So it goes.

As per the normal, Death Cab For Cutie saved the day.

Posted in Musings.


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