You've got red on you!
Today was a very long day.
I'm not really a girly girl when it comes to getting ready for work. I kind of roll out of bed and throw on some clothes that I have laying out, and even if the clothes are NICE, my hair is usually pretty blah and I rarely bother with makeup because I know I'll just end up with it smeared all over by 4:45 anyway. Maybe if I have ten extra minutes in the morning I'll throw some hot rollers in my hair or something. It's kind of a stark contrast between some of the other ladies in my department, who do the full routine every morning and come in manicured and hairsprayed. At one point I must have decided that I'd make an "effort" and I started sometimes using red nail polish. This phase lasted all of three days. I threw the bottle in my purse and promptly forgot about it.
This morning I was sitting at my desk, contemplating whether eating a breakfast sandwich from the Justice Center or eating a Snickers would make me gain weight faster and picking at my teeth with my pen cap, when I noticed a strange varnishey kind of smell emanating from the nether regions below my desk. I decided it was probably nothing since my office usually smells kind of funky and reached for my purse. You'd think when I unzipped it and smelled the varnish even more that I would have stopped and said "huh. Maybe I'll get a plastic bag and do this over the sink." But no, that would have shown foresight. Piss on that! I reached brazenly into my purse and came up with a hand covered in red nail polish and little broken glass chips.
"Son of a bitch!" I called to the woman at the desk next to me, trying to haul my trash can over with my feet and dumping it over instead. I used my clean hand to find some napkins and proceeded to try to wipe the polish off the things in my purse. I was concerned about my apartment key, which is electronic like a hotel key. I was worried the that polish would somehow prevent it from working correctly, not that it works correctly all the time anyway.
The woman next to me was laughing but offering no help. I just KNOW she was thinking about the time she took a long lunch and I trashed her desk (pictures of that are on the "pictures" page for anyone interested.) Anyway, somewhere in the shuffle I managed to drop a wad of red shiny things right on my rather nice blue shirt and tan slacks.
Soap and water only made it worse. By this point the whole area was starting to smell, and I was getting really dizzy. I ran to the bathroom and tried to fix myself, only to bump into a hoarde of women all offering encouraging comments such as "wow, that'll NEVER come out!" and "I smelled you coming from down the hall!" Keep in mind this was no delicate dab of red...I was covered in red smears from chest to thigh, because I am a klutz, and if I'm going to get red nail polish all over my work clothes, of course I'm going to get it all over the front of my body. Why not, right? I found someone with some nail polish remover so I dumped some of that on the front of me, which did nothing for the appearance but added greatly to the heady smell.
After running around like an ass for a good twenty minutes I remembered I had a sweater in my car. So I grabbed my keys and hiked my varnished rear end out the door, allll the way to the flats in my heels, where I changed into a clean sweater in an open parking lot, in the flats, in broad daylight. I was past the point of caring. On the way back up to the office, I came across a man relieving himself on a bridge support. Not some indigent person, mind you, but a well dressed man with a man-bag, standing there smiling up at the bright sunny day with a dreamy look on his face, a puddle streaming away from him and down into the gutter. I imagine he didn't want to walk the few blocks to Tower City and use a pay toilet, and I can't say I can blame him.
While I left my smelly shirt in my car, I did forget to put my PURSE in my car, so I spent the rest of the day feeling like I was in some sort of Clerks/Shaun of the Dead mash-up movie, with various people walking by and saying "what smells like nail polish?" and being helpful by saying "you've got red on you!" and pointing at my left thigh. Thanks, guys.
So now I have a headache, and I'm still kind of dizzy, and if this is what "huffing" feels like I want no part of it.
I'd blame it on the full moon, but I slopped on myself yesterday, too, and I'm thinking of just giving up and wearing a full body sheet of plastic from now on. A Body Condom for the grace-impaired among us. Or maybe I'll just scotchguard everything I own. That'll be sexy.
I need an aspirin.
I'm not really a girly girl when it comes to getting ready for work. I kind of roll out of bed and throw on some clothes that I have laying out, and even if the clothes are NICE, my hair is usually pretty blah and I rarely bother with makeup because I know I'll just end up with it smeared all over by 4:45 anyway. Maybe if I have ten extra minutes in the morning I'll throw some hot rollers in my hair or something. It's kind of a stark contrast between some of the other ladies in my department, who do the full routine every morning and come in manicured and hairsprayed. At one point I must have decided that I'd make an "effort" and I started sometimes using red nail polish. This phase lasted all of three days. I threw the bottle in my purse and promptly forgot about it.
This morning I was sitting at my desk, contemplating whether eating a breakfast sandwich from the Justice Center or eating a Snickers would make me gain weight faster and picking at my teeth with my pen cap, when I noticed a strange varnishey kind of smell emanating from the nether regions below my desk. I decided it was probably nothing since my office usually smells kind of funky and reached for my purse. You'd think when I unzipped it and smelled the varnish even more that I would have stopped and said "huh. Maybe I'll get a plastic bag and do this over the sink." But no, that would have shown foresight. Piss on that! I reached brazenly into my purse and came up with a hand covered in red nail polish and little broken glass chips.
"Son of a bitch!" I called to the woman at the desk next to me, trying to haul my trash can over with my feet and dumping it over instead. I used my clean hand to find some napkins and proceeded to try to wipe the polish off the things in my purse. I was concerned about my apartment key, which is electronic like a hotel key. I was worried the that polish would somehow prevent it from working correctly, not that it works correctly all the time anyway.
The woman next to me was laughing but offering no help. I just KNOW she was thinking about the time she took a long lunch and I trashed her desk (pictures of that are on the "pictures" page for anyone interested.) Anyway, somewhere in the shuffle I managed to drop a wad of red shiny things right on my rather nice blue shirt and tan slacks.
Soap and water only made it worse. By this point the whole area was starting to smell, and I was getting really dizzy. I ran to the bathroom and tried to fix myself, only to bump into a hoarde of women all offering encouraging comments such as "wow, that'll NEVER come out!" and "I smelled you coming from down the hall!" Keep in mind this was no delicate dab of red...I was covered in red smears from chest to thigh, because I am a klutz, and if I'm going to get red nail polish all over my work clothes, of course I'm going to get it all over the front of my body. Why not, right? I found someone with some nail polish remover so I dumped some of that on the front of me, which did nothing for the appearance but added greatly to the heady smell.
After running around like an ass for a good twenty minutes I remembered I had a sweater in my car. So I grabbed my keys and hiked my varnished rear end out the door, allll the way to the flats in my heels, where I changed into a clean sweater in an open parking lot, in the flats, in broad daylight. I was past the point of caring. On the way back up to the office, I came across a man relieving himself on a bridge support. Not some indigent person, mind you, but a well dressed man with a man-bag, standing there smiling up at the bright sunny day with a dreamy look on his face, a puddle streaming away from him and down into the gutter. I imagine he didn't want to walk the few blocks to Tower City and use a pay toilet, and I can't say I can blame him.
While I left my smelly shirt in my car, I did forget to put my PURSE in my car, so I spent the rest of the day feeling like I was in some sort of Clerks/Shaun of the Dead mash-up movie, with various people walking by and saying "what smells like nail polish?" and being helpful by saying "you've got red on you!" and pointing at my left thigh. Thanks, guys.
So now I have a headache, and I'm still kind of dizzy, and if this is what "huffing" feels like I want no part of it.
I'd blame it on the full moon, but I slopped on myself yesterday, too, and I'm thinking of just giving up and wearing a full body sheet of plastic from now on. A Body Condom for the grace-impaired among us. Or maybe I'll just scotchguard everything I own. That'll be sexy.
I need an aspirin.
posted at 6:16 PM
1 Comments:
one time, at findlay, i went to get off of my horse and ripped my pants. and i'm talking ripped. as in, both seams, the front to back seam and the inseam. a solid 6 inch hole. i... am not prone to wearing undergarments. i still had to take my horse back to his stall and clean his stall. it was still late august/early september so there were no extra layers to be found anyhwere. in the stall was no big deal cuz the only one who could see anything was my pony. but yeah, trying to be nonchalant about that is tough. i was actually thankful when a stiff breeze caught my junk and gave me wood, then i could do the "belt tuck" to get out of the building. hehehehehe. ahhh, embarrassing oneself is so much fun.
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