I am generally rather careful with my possessions and look after them well, in return for which they rarely come to harm. I am happy with this arrangement, as are they.
This week, however, has seen a series of organised, parallel breaches of this agreement.
On Tuesday I was fiddling with the clip on the pen for my tablet PC when it broke through, and then broke off. I wasn't too put out until I tried to re-house the pen – it lives in a little hole at the bottom of the laptop screen, and one presses a release button to pop it out again – and found to my chagrin that I was merely pushing it further and further into the hole without it slotting into place. The release button confirmed that the clip is needed both to slot the pen into place and to push it out again.
When I got home Kevin managed to hook a bent paperclip around the pen and draw it out again, whereupon the clip was reattached with superglue and I am currently treating it very delicately, since I don't want to pay £35-£40 for a new tablet pen just for the sake of a small piece of plastic.
This morning I tried to open the clasp on my laptop case, but I couldn't. It is of the kind where it juts out a bit (because there's a tiny spring behind it), you push it in to make it lie flat and then you can slide it through the opening. (I don't think I'm describing it very well.) I couldn't push it in because, further inspection revealed, some of the parts inside (the locking mechanism, and the tiny spring) had come off and were rolling around inside the housing, getting in the way. I managed to fish them out with a pen, and joy at being able to access my laptop dimmed at the realisation that the case now wouldn't stay closed.
I had a small metal chain handy though, and had the brilliant idea of looping it through the clasp when it was closed in order to prevent it from coming open. (This idea is rendered rather less brilliant when you have to keep spending 20 seconds fiddling to try to open or close your case.)
This is my kneeling chair. I originally wanted to buy it when I went to university, because I had just spent a year working in an office and knew that my lower back didn't appreciate sitting in a cheap office chair for hours on end. (Of course, we weren't allowed to bring furniture of any kind to the halls of residence, and so I was stuck in a totally non-adjustable desk chair for hours on end which resulted in, um, back pain. Maybe I should have got out more.) I got it two years ago when Kevin and I moved into the flat and it has proven to be a remarkably good choice.
After coming home today I swivelled around on it in order to stand up and heard a small cracking noise. Checking underneath I saw that the metal soldering that holds the seat to the frame had snapped through on one side, which has left me wobbling rather precariously whenever I forget and shuffle around slightly. (Actually, a closer look showed that the metal plate it was soldered to wasn't even made of metal, but some kind of chipboard material coated in metal.)
They say these things come in threes. I certainly hope so.