The paper cup theory

I used to be a lot more philosophical about life. Somehow, in the middle of of my mid-twenties existence, I forgot all about that. I wrote things down, I thought about why I did something or why one of my friends was suffering like an abandoned puppy because of some dog-like boyfriend. No insult intended to dogs here.
And I wrote.
And I haven't done that in the longest of time. Just sit down with a blank piece of paper/blogspot and pour my sinisterly philosophical heart in it.
Today I went to McDonalds for a cup of tea. Ignore the fact that I have to go to McDonalds for take-away tea, that deserves another post in itself.
Yesterday I went to McDonalds with my friend, Miss Mob and we had tea.
I'm guessing you're wondering when I'll cut to the philosophical part.

Yesterday I had tea in a porcelain cup. Today I had tea in a paper cup.
Bam! My neural synapses exploded.
Paper cups don't allow for an easy dispersion of heat. Porcelain cups do.
I'm a freakin' porcelain cup.
I don't hold on to things, I completely misplace everything and anything left in my possession. I am bad with finance, and no, not the theoretical part of it, I was actually quite good at it in college, I'm bad at keeping money in my pocket and out of [INSERT random fashion website/famous brand/new designer/expensive food/Mr. Mystery gifts/flowers/shoes galore HERE]'s pockets.
I can remember the freakiest, most useless things possible read on a magazine, on a train, 5 years ago while standing on my suitcase, but I completely forget team meetings that happen every month on the same day.
I buy perfect t-shirts and awesome shoes only to find I have the exact same model (potentially same brand) in my closet already and have already worn and discarded it from my fashion existence.
I remember birthdays like my life depended on them and I forget to pay my phone bills so when I have to call the people on the afore-mentioned birthdays I discover I have to argue on the phone with some Italian operator on the other side of the world explaining I am a porcelain cup.

And they don't get it. Because that's the thing. I'm surrounded by paper cups. I'm a lonely porcelain cup in a sea of perfectly built paper cups that allow for the dispersion of nothing. They keep their content warm until you just want to scream at them. They will always burn your tongue and never apologise because that's what they do. They keep things warm.
They will always make us, porcelain cups, be late (or at least seem like we.re always late because they're always freakishly on time) because they never allow their content to get cold.
We get cold aka lose something - a job, an opportunity, a shoe, our car keys - and they never do that. They make it to the final tongue-scorching mile and that makes me, or us, porcelain cups go crazy!
That's the paper cup theory.
We're all paper cups or porcelain cups, carrying around our content, more or less scorching, in an endless cup competition.

Considering all of the Starbucks and McDonalds and Costa Coffee and The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf in the world, with all their perfectly engineered paper cups, we've got our work cut out for us.

Kiss and Peace
Porcelain Miss Sinister


Later edit: My perfect Mr. Mystery just said the most perfect of things: "But porcelain cups also absorb the heat...that's why they make everything more manageable."
So maybe I'm just partly dispersing and partly absorbing.
It's on paper cups, watch your recycled behinds!

How about you?