I lost my Whitman water bottle.
You know the blue water bottle covered with whitman/pnw stickers that literally every whitman student has?
Yeah, I lost that one.
I am now using a water bottle from one of new universities. Luckily, it is also blue with white lettering, it is also a water bottle, and also has a screw on cap. An observer might not notice the difference. Or if they do notice the difference, they’ll be impressed by how well I’ve adapted to the new water bottle. But I know the truth of it. I know just how different this water bottle is from my old one. It lacks all the personal touches that I had grown accustomed to. The stickers, worn smooth by my habits and patterns, are gone. It’s shiny and pretty and quite functional but it feels awkward, different, and just somehow… off.
Sometimes I forget that I left my old one behind me somewhere until I reach for something familiar and find that things don’t work quite the same as they used too, and that the water leaves a slightly different taste in my mouth. It’s taller than my old one, and thinner too, and sometimes even when I think I’ve learned how tightly I need to grab it, it slips though my fingers. But most importantly, the cap on my new water bottle doesn’t screw on as tightly as my old one. And so, every once in a while, one small error, one thoughtless moment, or one incorrect assumption lets loose a flood of embarrassment, self-doubt, and wet notebooks.