The night before last I had a very restless sleep and spent yesterday powered up on caffeine. This is never a good idea, because eventually my body does a sudden power down and crashes for many hours. Hours in which the house could burn down around me and I wouldn’t notice or care. Happily that didn’t happen, and here I am, up and once again pretending to be normal and on my second cup of coffee already.
One of the reasons I couldn’t sleep was because some time in the afternoon I thoughtlessly tossed a black opti-flow ink pen on to my couch without putting the cap on it. The light mushroom brown material absorbed the black ink as it flowed until there was a nice round inky black spot staring at me when I finally happened to notice it. Even for completely unobservant me it was relatively easy to notice. So when I should have been in bed sleeping I was instead pouring out caps of rubbing alcohol and dabbing up incredible amounts of ink. On to white (of course they were white) terry cloth dish towels. It was like a tie-dye experiment gone horribly wrong. Then I used up three tide pens to get out the last of it. All night I fretted about what it would look like dry and in the daylight, and there were also a few thoughts flitting around in my head having to do with carelessness and being a moron.
It’s not too bad, all things considered. A very faint bluish splotch which I will now make sure I sit on whenever we have guests. I think another tide pen should take care of it once I work up the ambition to mess about with it again. This is the same piece of furniture which has been broken since Christmas, 2012. W is going to get it fixed. You know that joke where you’re told not to worry, your husband is going to get it done, there’s no need to remind him about it every six months? Yeah, that one.
There should have been a center support on the front cross-piece of this couch, (who thinks about these things when you see it new) especially for people like us who load it up with the entire family for a memorable photo. We’ve had it propped up front and center with wooden blocks (complete with duct tape) for almost two years.
So my very first thought when I discovered the ink was to just throw the whole damned thing out and get a new one. Chuck it. Start over. Piece of crap.
But I’ve been doing that all my life, and it’s so wrong. Wasteful, extravagant, bad for the environment. Can you recycle a couch? I got a new coffee pot because the old one was leaking a bit and it annoyed me to have to clean up after it. It was still working and probably could have done with a good cleaning, but instead of trying that, I chucked it out. I’ve thrown out microwaves rather than bother to see if they can be repaired. When I decide I don’t like something anymore I get rid of it and replace it with something new. I hope you’re reading this W. You could be next.
Nope, turning over a new leaf here. Going to recycle and re-purpose and maintain. Make my mother proud.
Except maybe for this gawd-awful carpet in my bedroom which originated on the ark and looks like total shit. No point in getting completely carried away.
Happy Canada Day tomorrow! I’m posting this now in case you’re putting your own spin on the celebration and could use a bit of inspiration.
This is recycling at it’s finest.