So raise a cracked mug to the yoosfol life. To the duct-taped philosophy of getting it done ugly. To the half-broken, the overused, the unfashionably reliable. You will not be remembered for your shine. But the world will keep turning because of your quiet, awful, beautiful usefulness.
You will not find yoosfol in a dictionary. Not yet. But you will feel it in the tight coil of an extension cord that has been wrapped wrong for the tenth time. You will taste it in the last sip of coffee that has gone bitter-cold. You will hear it in the cheerful ding of a notification that you know, deep down, is only asking for your time. yoosfol
Yoosfol is the sound of a vacuum cleaner at 7 AM on a Sunday. It is doing its job. It is ruining everything. So raise a cracked mug to the yoosfol life