Describe a scatterbrained artist whose race car runs out of fuel.
There once was an artist named Danica. She loved to draw, but she had never finished a single painting in her life. She was so absent minded and scatter brained that before she could finish her painting, she would think of something else she had to do, like the laundry. After putting the laundry in, Danica would inevitably remember that she had been cooking macaroni on the stove. When she ran over to turn the stove off, she realized she never turned the stove on because that was when she had the idea to paint a portrait of her turtle. And so it went each day.
More than anything, Danica wanted to finish a painting. As she poured out the pot of cold water and grabbed a bag of chips, she was determined to focus on her painting. When she got back upstairs to her room, she realized she didn't know where her favorite paint brush went. Retracing her steps, Danica went back to the kitchen. No paintbrush.
"Oh no," Danica thought. "I didn't put it in the laundry, did I?" She hurried to the laundry room and opened the washer. Everything was blue. "At least that's my favorite color," she thought.
As she dug through the paint stained clothes, she felt a sharp stick. Danica pulled out half of her paintbrush. "Great," Danica thought, getting misty eyed. "My favorite brush. I can never do anything right," she thought.
Whenever Danica got upset or overly emotional, which was multiple times a day, she would take a drive in her race car. She backed out of her driveway, then sped off backwards. (She forgot to switch gears from "reverse" to "drive".) Danica screeched to a stop. Switched gears to "drive," and sped off again, this time in the right direction.
Danica drove, radio full blast while she sang, equally loudly along to a sad Taylor Swift song. She stopped at Michael's to buy a new paintbrush.
"I'm sorry old friend," Danica sobbed to the remaining half of her paintbrush. "I just couldn't save you. I know it's insensitive of me, but will you please help me find a new paintbrush?"
Danica hugged her old friend, wiped away her tears, and walked into Michael's.
After an hour a salesperson escorted Danica out of the store. In her depressed state, Danica couldn't choose a new paintbrush, even with the help of the salesperson and her old paintbrush. All Danica could manage was to sob on the floor, hugging her paintbrush. The salesperson couldn't take more than an hour of her loud sobs.
Danica slipped back into her car and drove off. As she missed her exit on the freeway,
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