Dandelions

I have a thing with Kleenex.

Sidebar (yes, so soon): Is Kleenex one of those words that became the word-thing? Probably. Can’t do it, gotta look it up. Hang on—it sure is. And the word for it is proprietary eponym. Wow.

Anyway, I have a thing with Kleenex. And it’s ridiculous. But it’s a thing nonetheless. Like, A thing; a for-real thing, in my brain.

For starters, there’s no “aesthetically pleasing” way to display Kleenex in the home. For the obvious example, what does one immediately think when seeing a box of Kleenex next to a bed? Right. Or am I the only one who’s 12?

Sure, try putting a fancy Kleenex box cover over it, but you’re not hiding much. Unless you have a really, really cool looking one…which I’ve never re-thought of until now. (Re-re-thought is a whole other story I don’t need to go into now; I’ve derailed plenty as-is.) You didn’t see it, but I stopped typing and stared at the wall for a good seven minutes thinking how silly of me to have never thought of looking up Kleenex box covers on those websites people use to buy cute shit from. Then all the cool ones I bet people make who have had this same idea. Definitely creating a favorites list of “Kleenex Box Covers” later.

Back to what I was saying—they can’t be hidden because then you’re defeating the purpose of them. It’s an annoying “must have” that can’t be hidden. Grr-ugh.

Secondly—don’t even get me started on the inner rage I feel when I just see a Kleenex box that doesn’t have a tissue already sticking out of it. Lordy, my brain sizzles. And if I go to said box and find the box EMPTY? Nope. Why can’t I deal with this? I don’t know, but either way, I have constant anxiety about Kleenex boxes and their current state of emptiness or non-emptiness.

If you don’t think I could write at least a short novel about Kleenex, you’d probably be right because I’d get bored halfway through, but if I applied myself…well, you’d be bored reading it. It’s a lose-lose situation, really.

This all started because when I climbed into bed tonight, I looked over at the Kleenex box on my nightstand and saw IT DIDN’T HAVE A TISSUE STICKING OUT. The audacity of myself! It’s only me down here! Hey, never said I was perfect.

Don’t worry, crisis averted. Box is still half-full and I tugged a sucker out. Huzzah! My day has been a success.