Pliny is pleased with the enigmatic ending to her previous blog. She wonders whether she might be able to use it more than once. Perhaps, she thinks, it is a universal truth that if there is any meaning to life it could be represented by a randomly chosen fact.
She tries out a few facts.
This morning, she writes, we threw away the old green plastic bucket that we keep in the shower for the purpose of recycling water because it was split in several places.
It seems at this point that it is not a universal truth she has invented, but she perseveres.
At the supermarket, she continues, Nostradamus chose a new plastic bucket, powder blue in colour. Pliny was entranced by the colour of the new bucket.
Pliny feels that she is approaching something meaningful and she goes on.
At home, in the bathroom, she contemplates the new powder blue bucket in the shower recess.
I did not realise, she thinks, how little I liked that old green bucket, until we got this new one. If life has any meaning, it might well be represented by this fact.
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