Why do I care so much?

I broke my favorite glass pitcher.  If anyone else had broken it, I would've immediately said, "Oh don't worry about it.  It's okay.  It happens to everyone.  It's just a material object."  But when I broke it, those words just didn't seem to console me.  (Believe me, I tried to say them to myself.)  I think I would've preferred to drop it on the floor and see it shattered into a million pieces.  But no, I barely tapped it against our crockpot, and less than an inch long triangle chipped from the top.  It was just a glass pitcher.  But it was the most "me" glass pitcher I have ever seen.  Why do I even care?  *sigh*  I made Greg take it out of my hands and walk it to the rubbish bin.  I couldn't even throw it away myself.  What a strange culture we live in that I mourn the loss of a glass pitcher...  And I have the gall to think I'm making headway with not holding tightly to things of this world!