I'm talking about cracks that went in all directions at once, the cracks extending in unexpected directions, making unscheduled intersections and such. In other words chaos.
I feel lucky because I can see this phenomenon happening. An awful lot of folks think that's the way things are supposed to be.
It's so easy to fall into the trap. Take making coffee in the morning. While you're filling up the pot with water, you notice that the pot needs to be cleared of those brown stains, so you switch to the hot water and reach for the soap.
While you're waiting for the hot water, you notice that the plants in the window are wilted and need a little water, so you pour some cold water from the pot into the flower pot in the window. Then you notice the ants on the windowsill, so you set the coffee pot under the hot water and rummage around in the cabinet beneath the sink for Ant-B-Gone!
The spraying leaves a gummy mess on the windowpane, so you get a paper towel to wipe that away and notice that the roll of towels is near the end, meaning you have to go to the pantry and get another roll of paper towels. You look for a pencil to put “paper towels” on the grocery list that's somewhere in that mess on the refrigerator door, all held in place by magnets strong enough to hold a good-sized dog.
The pencil's in the silverware drawer with all those little packets of mayo, catsup, mustard, honey mustard, chili sauce and barbeque sauce that you took from the hamburger place at lunch three years ago.
There's no expiration date on the packets, but to be on the safe side, you decide that if you haven't used them yet, you never will, so in the trash they go. The trash can's full and half of them spill onto the floor, so you take the garbage bag out to the can in the back, only to notice that the raccoon has been back, has figured out how to open the child-proof garbage can and stuff's scattered all over the yard.
It has to be picked up and put back into the can that you start to put into the metal shed, but it's locked and the lock has rusted (a marine lock that's not supposed to do that), so you're back in the junk drawer in the bedroom where the key used to be, or that was the last place you saw a key that looked similar to the one that opens the lock.
While you're there, you figure you'll get a clean pair of socks, but there isn't a mate with any sock you pick up. They must be in the dryer, stuck to the top by static electricity from the last load of washing.
The socks aren't there, so you look under the bed where socks have a habit of crawling. You notice a large brown spider, probably a brown recluse. It slides under the picture frame you meant to refinish, so you grab a shoe and move the frame slightly, shoe at the ready, but the spider's gone to wherever reclusives find recluse.
And one of the shoelaces is ready to break, so it's back to the junk drawer, this time in the laundry room, where you thought you put the six new pairs of shoelaces you bought late last year. They were “on special” at a $1.49 a set.
You decide you'll look for the laces after you get a shower. Time's passing, and you've already been late to work twice this week. There's no hot water. Then you remember that a full tank of it has been through the coffee pot in the kitchen and gone down the drain, if you left the drain open.
Rushing back to the kitchen, you find the drain open but the coffee pot's too hot to handle, so you decide to scratch in the kitchen junk drawer for a key to the shed. Instead you find an mini-box of Kleenex has been turned into a happy home for six baby mice. They're snuggled back there with the flashlight batteries. Mother mouse had to cut through three sets of shoelaces before she decided these were too waxy for her babies.
Forget it. You decide to shave and get on to work, then deal with this mess later. But, you bought one of those battery-powered razors last year, not knowing that the cord with the shaver is just to recharge the thing (taking 24 hours); the shaver won't work off the cord.
As you turn out the light and start out the door, you notice something move under the table. You turn the light back on and catch a glimpse of Mother Mouse happily munching on a Cheerio you've dropped yesterday. That's when the bulb in the ceiling light pops and goes black, and that's probably the last 3-way bulb you've got.
Never mind. When spring fever hits, you don't get befuddled by any of it. I'll worry about it tomorrow.