Box: 1; Me: 0

I’m having a fight with this box

Twice today I’ve found myself talking out loud even though I’m alone. The first was when I nearly stepped in a street loogie and let out a little yelp and then the second was this afternoon when I put together this wardrobe box which refused to crumple down in any way that would allow for neat and efficient taping. I’m pretty pissed at this box right now. Not as pissed as the woman I passed this morning who was berating her dog Lincoln because “Did I tell you you could get up, Lincoln? Did I? LINCOLN!” At first I thought she was yelling at a dog named Winky which made it even sadder. It was kind of like when you pass someone who’s yelling at a kid and you want to reach out to the kid and report the parent but instead you just glare, kind of hoping they’ll notice you but also a little afraid of what they’ll do if your glaring causes a confrontation. But then I was thinking that she wasn’t hitting her dog, she was just upbraiding him, but it was upsetting all the same. And she was a little thing and the dog was a big thing (a black lab) who was sort of putting up with her even though you could tell she was a total pain the ass.

But anyway, back to this box, it’s just very spirited and on the one hand I don’t want to break its spirit but on the other if it’s going to house my clothing it’s going to need to learn to cooperate.