Objects of My Life. Roughest Draft

The first thing that I ever owned was my floppy-eared, cream-colored, and brown-spotted stuffed dog, who I creatively named Puppy. Unfortunately for Puppy, I didn’t have any particular love for stuffed animals. He became yet another member of my older brother and I’s pile of stuffed animals sitting in the corner next to the closet. He fit right in along with my brother’s stuffed dog, my pillow-pet, my brother’s pillow pet, and our matching owls. To this day Puppy is still in my room. Instead of being thrown in the corner, he’s now thrown in a plastic box that supports two blankets, a baseball cap, and a shoebox. 

My relationship with my stuffed animals may have resulted from me believing myself to be much more mature than I really am, but I haven’t abandoned all mementos of childhood just yet. The corner between the ceiling and the wall is still wrapped in a banner of monster trucks climbing over desert rocks after I chose those images over images of Formula 1 cars (one of my biggest regrets). And I still use the perfect blanket which I’ve owned for as long as I can remember. Its thin wrapping of fabric holding in similarly thin cotton stuffing gives it the perfect thickness and warmth to be used any season either by itself in warmer months or as the bottom blanket in colder months. It just so happens to be covered in spiderwebs and comic-book-style frames of Spiderman. 

I don’t like the saying, “Change is the only constant in life,” because it makes me feel that I’m forced to accept or even welcome change. I think that what doesn’t change in my life with or without my knowledge is much more meaningful than the hundreds of life changes. Owning a phone was a big change in my life, but owning a house or my own car might end up becoming even more impactful. I was so excited about my phone then, but I think that apathy can be much more satisfying than excitement because if change is so common then why is it worth anything?

When I was seven and in second grade, I was given what should have been horrible news. I needed glasses. Beginning to wear glasses wasn’t some magic moment that changed everything in my life. Instead, they only made signs easier to read and light bulbs clear sources rather than fuzzy disks. As life changed so did my glasses. They changed in color, shape, thickness, and prescription, but my relationship never did. At the end of the day, they still help me see. The real differences in glasses come from the small bends in the frame or the subtle loosening of the screws. These tiny insignificant changes add up over time to create a similarly mild nuisance. It's only when I, either through a visit to someone official or by myself, fix all these mild nuisances by myself that I notice just how much my glasses have changed.

The next big change that happened to my eyes came just last summer when I swapped glasses for contact lenses. Contacts came with their own challenges. I learned their care and the hassle of taking them in and out every day and every night. I’m too lazy for this hassle. I prefer to sleep in until the last possible minute and rush to get ready for the day. In the process, I inevitably choose my tried and true glasses over contacts. My resistance to new objects may arise from laziness, but things I’ve adopted like my phone and blanket despite that laziness are all the more important because of it.