When trying to describe a scene I'm constantly losing the words for the simplest things; confusing crown molding for architectural trim, unsure whether a colander is a spoon or a strainer, mistaking auburn for red and red for blond. I've always assumed some large part of this to be the product of my upbringing. I honestly worry that I've been so privileged and spoiled that it never seemed pertinent for me to learn the names of things, their purpose or how they eventually fall into disrepair. My family were so doting that it was never really necessary for me to engage with life and learn the protocols for basic interaction with everyday objects.
My childhood left me unfamiliar with the way dust collects or how to handle a broom, the methods of replacing a screen in a window, what it meant to be on a lease, the sound of water boiling and how a french press is operated, how best to break an egg or steam vegetables, how to peel and chop garlic, and the other simple feats of maintenance that seem second nature to others. I find myself every day in situations that make me uncomfortable and confused that if articulated to my friends would instantly cause them to lose all respect for me as a human being.
My first time using a laundromat in the city I googled 'How to use a laundromat' five or six times, just to confirm for myself that I'd be physically prepared to wash my clothes when I got there.
I did not know how to make an omelet until the internet taught me how. I felt like an honest-to-god liar when I told my current employers I'd cleaned before in my day-to-day life.
I don't know what to tell you. This seemed like a compelling topic when I started it.