In a world where coffee is a lubricant and existential dread is a well-timed tick of the clock, we find ourselves pondering the great mysteries.
Does the toaster envy the washing machine? Perhaps. But only in their dreams of a parallel universe where they battle it out in a duel of electrical prowess.
Remember the good old days when the only thing we had to worry about was whether the clock on the mantelpiece was synchronized with the microwave? Ah, nostalgia is a mechanical wind-up mechanism, wound too tightly.