There are endless little things that render one's life temporarily pointless and a total waste of time, effort, emotion, adrenaline and grey matter.
Little things that violently cross out the days in which they happened as better never having dawned, since not even a good story can come out of them.
Au contraire, one becomes an utter bore in one's attempt to relay the pathetic event or state.
Unless, of course, it comes from the Russian literati. Then it's called "...amazing insight into the human heart and...shattering criticism of those aspects of man's character which profoundly affect human thought and behaviour."
This section was inspired by yet another Russian graduate, Dr. Mikaela Fiodorovna, from the often quoted infamous Russian fly-swallowers breeding farm, who is, of course, currently spending her time trying to forget. She used to be a Dostoevskian purist. Don't ask what she has become.
Allow me to attempt to classify these little predicaments...
