a lament for cooking utensils lost

I miss my stand mixer. seriously. I have this feeling that secretly I am an amazing baker...I could make bread and cakes and cookies (and yes, weigh 600lbs but...) and pies and scones and those little chewy things my gran used to make when i was a kid and other things as well...but... I lost my stand mixer in the divorce. technically it was a gift for my ex but I hate him with a passion that could fuel hell now, so I feel like it's time he gave it back. It was a 5 quart, pistachio green, KitchenAid stand mixer and it weighed a half tonne... probably the nicest thing I've ever given as a gift. [this is where I had written something mean about my ex, but I decided to edit it out in the spirit of being a bigger person or something...not that much bigger mind you, as the thought is still there, I just blacked it out so that you can't read it]

...To be entirely honest I had completely forgotten all about my estranged stand mixer until this morning. I was looking on instructables while waiting on a phone call (one that still hasn't come) when I saw it, a pistachio green KitchenAid Stand Mixer, my heart actually jumped up into my mouth as I thought to myself, my stand mixer! how could I have forgotten about you? my head instantly filled with all the gloriously baked possibilities, the breads I could be making and the cookie dough I should be kneading (or whatever it is you do to cookie dough). As I tried to recall the whereabouts of my newly remembered mixer my heart dropped from my mouth into the pit of my stomach where it bobbed up and down for a moment, all the happy thoughts were replaced by that feeling you get right after you wake up on the day after something truly horrible has happened, like the death of the beloved family parakeet, or in my case it was the devastating realization was that it wasn't my stand mixer after all.

...I suppose the truth is that I liked having the mixer more than I liked using it, it was pretty and pale green and it offered the possibility of baked goods whenever I wanted them. now I have to knead dough by hand, and mix with a bloody spatula. A SPATULA! it's like the frickin' dark ages in my kitchen.