Having established that paranoia is mine (will follow this up in my next post which I have, uncharacteristically, already written – just in case) I find myself rifling through the last two drawers in my kitchen not having been attended to in detail for the last two years.
I am so glad I am not a man. There are many a nail, a bolt, a nut and a screw. Spares. For what? Who knows. Probably for shelves and appliances long rusting in a landfill coming to haunt generations to come. So, yes, since I am not a man who will lovingly hoard screws/shrews in case they come in ‘handy’ some time in a future he will not live, I have binned all of them. Nails (all sizes) I keep because I have got a hammer.
Two minutes ago I nearly fell apart and tried not to think about who I REALLY am when I came across a little pouch, labelled (yes, labelled) by me, saying: “Half dead batteries”. Make of that what you will.