Saturday Blues


If I’d known,

I wouldn’t have procrastinated.
I wouldn’t be lazy like a pig.
I wouldn’t have forgotten.
I wouldn’t be such a careless fool.

But I did not, and couldn’t have known.

Therefore, blue laundry was harvested from the washer this morning.

Socks. Jeans. Bra. Panties. Pants. Monkey shirt. T-shirt. All of them turned blue.

The worst of them all, was the pink-blue-purple-maroon and idk what has become of my favourite and pretty new cardigan. All I know now is that it ain’t pretty anymore. Sobs.

Vented frustrations on the mop and floor. Tried all sorts of home remedies from Google. I went to the extent of digging out the guides handbook to read up on the stain-removal page.

Now my hands reek of vinegar, detergent, salt and lemon. None of which worked.

All I’m left with now is a clean floor, a wasted morning and a fugly cardigan. Oh, and smelly hands.


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