fuzzy logic

There is a cardboard box in my kitchen. It isn’t an empty cereal box or the packaging to ravioli or canned fruit purchased in bulk. It has no kitchen-like function.

On Monday, I received a few relatively small books by way of the U.S. Postal Service. Of course, they arrived in a box five times larger than needed – the extra space consumed by brown packaging paper. Well, I guess that’s better than Styrofoam peanuts.

The box sits on the floor of my small kitchen. It is empty except for two small “bouncy balls” and a piece of junk mail. The lid flaps are rather unwieldy and will not stay flattened because it is a sturdy box.

Tell me, please, why this box remains in my kitchen when I trip over it every single time I walk through the room.

Maybe I should blame it on the Harvest Moon.