Finally, someone who understands.
If I can find this person I will marry him or her, because this is the perfect harmony of left-brain creativity and right brain straightjacket order. This picture is a whole and unified personality.
Or maybe not.
On the frosted side, you have the maniacal whimsy that is bubblewrap. What other substance so clearly captures the childlike sense of obsessive-compulsive fun than bubblewrap? There’s even an app–several aps–for it. A stupid app, yes, but let’s not judge. It’s predefined, nicely contained whimsy.
Who could say no? Even if you had to pack your mother’s 18th century classware, you’d still pop, like, a quarter of the little cells.
I say thee no.
Because goodwill has provided us bubble wrap under glass. You could break the glass, in the event of a sudden need to pop maybe 130 or so bubbles, but you’d probably lose half of them in the process. So, no. Just sit. Do not touch. Do not pop. Sadly draw a finger across the glass, and think about the sort-of fun you could have had.
None for you.
Salvation Army on Anderson Mill, Austin