and again
[plays in the background: soy un perdedor...]
you know how when something is painfully slow or boring people say it's "like watching paint dry"?
well, i am watching a stain dissolve.
stupid ink stain on my stupid white coat. i understand that i have need for a pocket protector. i know. but i won't use one. you know why.
so i'm bleaching it.
this isn't my first encounter with ink, which has destroyed my favorite work shirt. i'm still mourning that one. that was waterman ink. it was a gold shirt. the ONE and only time i used that pen at work.
so the bleach is working. sort of.
every time i look, i think the stain just might be a little bit lighter. it was midnight black, then it was charcoal grey. after a while it was like dark chocolate, then milk chocolate. then it looked like old blood. now it looks like spaghetti sauce that's been partially washed out. so it's working. but it's painfully slow.
as the stain fades, i have time to think of those stains on my life that i wish would disappear. years old they are, and they are useless to me. in fact, i hate them. hate. hate them. they are blemishes on my life, these bad memories. and yes, with time, memories fade, but they fade so... painfully... slowly...
anyway i've now wasted like an hour on these inkspots.
gah.
you know how when something is painfully slow or boring people say it's "like watching paint dry"?
well, i am watching a stain dissolve.
stupid ink stain on my stupid white coat. i understand that i have need for a pocket protector. i know. but i won't use one. you know why.
so i'm bleaching it.
this isn't my first encounter with ink, which has destroyed my favorite work shirt. i'm still mourning that one. that was waterman ink. it was a gold shirt. the ONE and only time i used that pen at work.
so the bleach is working. sort of.
every time i look, i think the stain just might be a little bit lighter. it was midnight black, then it was charcoal grey. after a while it was like dark chocolate, then milk chocolate. then it looked like old blood. now it looks like spaghetti sauce that's been partially washed out. so it's working. but it's painfully slow.
as the stain fades, i have time to think of those stains on my life that i wish would disappear. years old they are, and they are useless to me. in fact, i hate them. hate. hate them. they are blemishes on my life, these bad memories. and yes, with time, memories fade, but they fade so... painfully... slowly...
anyway i've now wasted like an hour on these inkspots.
gah.
posted by CamoBunny at 20:48
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1 comments
1 Comments:
patience is a virtue. or is it a virgin. i can't remember. anyway, it's a good quality to have.
and, well, that's it i guess. i wish i had some good stain removing advice... and i should, what with all of the laundry i do, but i have no patience so when i face a stain, it goes in the garbage.
8/21/2006 06:53:00 PM
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