Going back to bookends....I just had to partially disassemble and then reassemble the same machine I disassembled and reassembled at the beginning of the summer. Fortunately, this round was much less traumatic. Round 1 left me with a couple scars (literally--that machine wanted to kill me I think), but I emerged from Round 2 with nothing more than greasy hands.
I love seeing how things go together--how things work, why they are the way they are. Everything--from cars to bikes to rollerblades to industrial sergers--I just want to know how it all works. So I always find it great fun when I get to take apart and out machines back together (as long as they don't try to kill me.)
I am kind of the "machine whisperer" in the shops I work in. When no one else can get a machine working, usually I can. Somehow I can look at a machine (and by "machine," just know I mean sewing machine) and see how it is all supposed to go. Even when faced with pieces removed in the dark...it doesn't take me long to figure out what's right.
It's logical. Completely logical--this follows that and this piece goes here...it makes sense to me. Being a small engine mechanic seems to be second nature to me.
So why can't I understand love? Why can't I understand why one emotion follows the other when it seems it should be the opposite? Why can't I understand why I feel the way I do...or why others feel and don't feel something?
It makes no sense to me whatsoever. I can't figure it out.
If I had to trade...would I rather be a small engine mechanic or understand love...what a choice.
I am actually not sure which I would choose...
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