Katrina Freund

12/17/05

College Essay writing

Descriptive essay

I feel like a mother. I feel like a slightly harassed older woman trying with all her might to help her child. I am constantly running after someone trying desperately to remove evidence of their mistakes, and I am constantly failing at it. There always seems to be a smudge left behind, a little imperfection, and the more mistakes I try to remove the more worn down I become. I am leaving pieces of my self behind at all the jobs I work on, little shavings. I was a rather fantastic shade of pink once, but now I am turning gray at the edges. Hopefully the errors I work so hard to eradicate are being learned from, because I am starting to smell like burnt rubber. At least I am still firm and smooth; I have yet to loose my rectangular figure. Maybe the smudges I leave are not so bad; maybe they are necessary reminders that blunders can be made, that they have been made before, and that they will be made again. I still wish I did not leave them. Those frustrating pen things would certainly be less common if I could stop. Perhaps if I was smaller I would be more precise. Then again, perhaps if I were larger my work would go faster. It does not matter; I am what I am. As it is I am twice the length of the quarters I run into in pockets and purses and I am five times as thick. The way that I wear though I will not be surprised if, as time goes on, I get thinner or shorter. That is what happens to things like me when they work hard and I intend to spend my entire life working, squeaking a bit as I go in order to pass the time. After all, as frustrating as it can be, I do enjoy my job. I see things most do not, the almost answer and the discarded thought. I learn things. Perhaps being someone’s mother is not so bad.