Change

I actually wanted to blog about something, but I was drawing a blank.

That is until I looked at my wallet. My brand new, but not so brand new, wallet. I got it on my last birthday and have not used it or wanted to use it until just last week. And it wasn't that I wanted to use it. I had to. There were threads coming loose on my old one. The clear plastic that shows my ID popped right off when I opened my wallet to take out some money. This wallet went through hell with me. I overstuffed it with cards accumulated throughout the years. I don't even know how many times it was left in my pockets only to be washed with the rest of my laundry. I'm like a pack rat. Even though that wallet was the most worn-out thing (actually, 2nd most...I'll get to the first later) I possess, I still wanted to use it.

It all comes down to my stubborn stance to change. The extent of how unwilling I was to make the switch to a nicer, newer wallet is mind-blowing to me now that I look back at it. I am so content with the status-quo that when the slightest opportunity of change comes, I reject it. I complain and am so reluctant when change is forced upon me. But then I get used to it and go through that process again when something newer comes along. It's a constant cycle.

My parents have come to put up with this stubbornness in me. I still have this blue elephant cup from my childhood. I still have my childhood toy, a pink hippo (which explains why the hippopotamus is my favorite animal), placed safely in my room at home. Now this stuffed toy is completely worn out. One of its eyes looks like it was gnawed at. There are patches where pink fur used to be. It's head is fighting to stay attached. But I refuse to ever throw this toy away. Maybe it's my reluctance to change or perhaps it's because it holds sentimental value to me.

No matter how against the idea of change, I always put up with it in the end and enjoy the benefits it reaps. Too bad I don't see that right away.