When we went on vacation in Florida last summer, I bought myself a nice wooden pen. I like using this pen a lot, and have gotten a lot written of my book, as well as my journal, and poetry, with it.
Of course, the ink in it didn’t last nearly this long, so I had to buy refills for it. And I didn’t want to just go with boring black or blue ink, so I bought a packet that had one pink and one purple ink refill. (The only other non-boring option was green and red. I like green, but I really don’t like red.) I thought I’d use the pink refill first, since I like pink less than purple, so I’d have the purple to look forward to. But it turns out it’s a really *bright* pink. I’ve been complaining in my journal for ages about the really bright pink ink.
Now, the smart thing to do would be to change the pink ink out for the purple, or even blue or black (just because I want some fun colors doesn’t mean I’m never going to use boring colors again). But it turns out that I enjoy complaining about the pink ink more than I dislike the ink itself, so I’m not going to until it runs out of ink. Of course, until now, I’ve kept most of my complaining about the pink ink in my journal, and I don’t intend to write about it here again, so there should be very few people annoyed by having to put up with listening to it.
No doubt that shows I’m crazy in one way or another, but you all knew that anyway.