I hate it when I pile seventy copies of Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man onto my wheeled chair so I can roll it down the hall, into the elevator and up to the book room, only to find that I've neatly and carefully stacked the books onto my regular desk chair-- which does not have wheels.
3 comments:
neatly? are you writing sentences about someone else again?
if you don't stack them neat, then they fall when you don't roll them.
One giant run-on sentence...yeah, that's writing.
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