A few hours later, however, after a hole has been eaten in my sad little gloves (and right at the fingertips, too), I pull them off and keep working, despite the stinging as the thousands of littte cuts and abrasions as acetone fills them with pain.
Afterwards, Katie throws out the gloves without so much as an "I told you so."
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One year ago: Those Were the Days
Three years ago: The Habits of Houseguests
Four years ago: I Panicked
Ten years ago: Flying
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