So, I thought that maybe I could bore you all by something that is... well, boring. You see, I have a dead imagination these days (being away from my manuscripts and all that *draws tear*) so I can't even THINK of anything to post about. My last writing was so very serious - desperate, very true, and passionate.... er, passionately true... Written because of the passion I have that passionately expresses the first passion listed, BECAUSE I am passionate about truth. Uh, nevermind. So, I thought that I might write something a little... Well... a little... *fades off* Nevermind.
Today, I finally got determined to look at my mathbook again, and figure some problems out so that someday I might be able to graduate and then if I graduate, it means that I'm done with school (not with learning, but with formal education) which means that after that, I can get married, and have a darling little family of my own! Wait... Where was I going with this?? Oh yeah... that.
So, I decided to find a nice, quiet, romantic, secluded place to do my math. And then I had the perfect place!! You see, behind my sisters closet there is a little tiny room. I thought it would be nice and cosy to study in there, and the cat was in there too, so that added and extra something to the idea. I caught up my journal in case some very interesting and perhaps romantic thoughts crossed my mind that MUST be written down. You know, those kind of entries that have the words, perfect, glorious, splendid, sublime, solace... etc.. So, I go back there, and there are two boxes stacked upon each other that needed to be removed in order to accomodate myself comfortably. I removed the one box, and to my horror, beheld a red pool of liquid on the top of the bottom box.
The very first thing that flashed through my crazy brain was, "Mazzolato!" And the horrific remembrance of that execution in the Count Of Monte Cristo. However, I was very relieved to find that (and all this happened in a split second) there was a bottle beside the pool, and I uttered a sigh to discover that after all, something which so much resembled blood, was in fact, nail polish.
But the smile that began to play on my face soon disappeared when I realized that all messes, no matter how terrible and sticky they seem, MUST be cleaned up, and I must do it. I therefore ran downstairs as fast as my unwilling legs would carry me, ranting in my mind (yet wearing a sweet smile on my face - no idea why) that JUST when I got determined to get to my math, SOMETHING had to happen to get in my way. I rushed all the way to the basement, and sternly looked my little 4 year old sister in the face, and she looked back with those droopy eyes that looked so shamefully guilty. I was forced to be lenient.
"Honey, you don't normally take nail-polish into the back of Chloe's closet... and normally, you don't spill it either. Ok?? Please try not to do it again." That's all I said. Then I rushed upstairs with a little spatula from the kitchen, to try to save some of the precious red nail-polish.
So I'm cleaning it up, remarking on the very great misfortune that befell me this afternoon, and how my motivation for my math had fled before the thought of the mess in front of me. I cleaned it up, as best I could, then glanced at the drying red stuff all over my hands. I then realized the stupid thing I had just done. I cleaned up nail polish with a cooking spatula! Well, everybody has dumb moments, and this was one of mine. :) I thought of getting the nail-polish off the spatula with nail-polish remover, but then realized the spatula would have soaked in the toxins that are in the nail-polish and the remover... (I don't even know if that's a correct statement... if someone would like to correct me on that - *bows* - please do.) So that was a dumb idea too. Threw the spatula away, and resolved that if mother noticed its disappearance I would buy her a new one. Ya know what? I'll buy her a new one anyways.
I got the nail polish off my hands, and then I went back upstairs. Even as I write, there is a big red blotch on the box in the cubby hole... that will not come off until we get around to getting off... Perhaps with paint thinner.
So that is the interesting event of the day, and if you didn't enjoy it... well, I am so desperately sorry.
Please note that I am sure there are plenty of spelling and grammatical errors in this post, so y'all will have to excuse me.