When I was younger and went to salons to get my hair cut, a typical stylist would often frown while looking at my hair as if she’d never seen such an atrocity, and then ask in a tone implying I should be thoroughly ashamed to be walking around publicly, “Who cut your hair last?”
One day a stylist went through those motions and snottily asked that very question. I answered honestly, “You did.”
Shut her up.
It’s very odd when you begin to see your peers die from their habits. A whole new terrain. I knew a bright, charismatic, albeit troubled man, who drank and smoked, heavily. I remember thinking (privately) that it was a race to see which would kill him first. One tried and the other finished the job. I miss him. I can’t abide waste and I really hate it in people.
I’ve been sick for 2 weeks and that kinda ran me down so I’m not quite at my sharpest. I’m hoping that’s the reason, anyway, for why I tried to scrub sunlight off the carpet.
While passing through the living room, I am surprised and a little appalled to see a lone, egg-shaped, white splotch on the green-toned carpet. I briefly consider that it is sunlight but dismiss the idea because a) I’ve never seen it before, b) its shape is odd, and c) it looks so white. Oh geez! In one of my recent painting projects, have I spilled white paint and simply not noticed till now? I really should be more careful.
I set about scrubbing the stain with my go-to spot cleaner, a little soap and an old toothbrush. It’s been weeks since I last used white paint, and it’s totally dried into the fibers. It’s not looking any better, is it? Well, maybe the fact it’s near a flower in the design will help conceal it. Darn.
I go on about my business until a little while later when I again pass through the room. The. spot. has. moved. Now it is nowhere near a flower. To my slight credit, I immediately understand I have been scrubbing sunlight. But for the small damp area, I can pretend this never happened.