I just murdered a trash bag. It was a crime of passion. I plead temporary insanity.
It looked innocent enough. Such a pretty translucent blue and perfect for the job it was going to be used for. I wanted to place some shoes in it. All my pretty summer sandals that I will never wear again have to go. Nine toes do not bring beauty in an open toed shoe or sandal. It wasn't even going to be put in the garbage. It was destined for donating these shoes to the local sheltered workshop for sale in their thrift store.
This trash bag wouldn't cooperate. It put up such a struggle. It held on to the roll and I had to yank on it just to get it loose. Then it threw a fit and stayed clamped shut. I begged and I pleaded, nicely I might add, for a little understanding. It ignored me. It fought me with such arrogance. It simply would not come apart to open.
In a moment of utter frustration, I grabbed my blue handled scissors and stabbed it to death. I hope it's a lesson to the rest of trash bags on the roll.
Never mess with me and my shoes.
CW
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