I really should not be allowed out in to public. At least not without armor of some sort. Ooooh - or a bubble. Yes, I need a bubble. Bubble Girl of WV - that's meeeee!
I got to work and managed to peel, slice and eat an apple with only minor bloodshed. Pretty good for a chick with accident-prone tendencies, huh?
Then I did it. I reached for my felt-tipped pen. My beloved. My writer of the bold lines, excellent doodler apparatus and a classic papermate - it's my favorite work pen. It flipped, slow-motion, outta my chubby little hands and looped towards my keyboard which I smartly shoved out of the way so that the felt-tipped devil would land square in my crotch.
My crotch now has a big black mark on it (stop sniggering - you KNOW what I mean!).
Sighing a big sigh heard 'round the world I opened up my side drawer and pulled out a Tide Pen. I was trying to keep that stupid singing commercial outta my head ("HEY, HEY, HEY GoooodBYE!") when I noticed a rather putrid aroma. I sniffed the air and then, warily, put my nose near the Tide Pen To Go. I recoil and decided "Yup, it's gone bad" - something I didn't think a cleaning agent could do!
Oh well - I have bigger problems now. The stain is now gone from my pants - but has been replaced with a smelly spot.
Yup - my day officially sucks stinky Tide Pens to Go.
So I try to wash it out in the bathroom - but the German imported paper towels just ball up and stick to my pants - making it a fuzzy, stinky spot.
I then go to the kitchen to get a towel and some water to try to remove fuzzies. I promptly pour water down my leg and now have to crouch and run all the way back to my desk with my head held down in shame.
I think I should just go home. Yes. Call it a day at 10:26 AM and go HOME.
Now, lemmie just get my trusty pen here and write them a note...