Sunday, September 20, 2009

The Spillage That Was

So a couple weeks ago (I know, I bad about writing about stuff when it happens) I had a day where...well it was messy.

I had to get gas on my way home, so I did that and then I thought "Hey, there's 7-11 over there, I could get myself a slurpee" because I do love slurpees a whole lot. So I go over to the 7-11 and what should they have, but blue raspberry slurpee! And in addition to loving slurpees, I also love blue raspberry a whole frickin' ton, in case you didn't know that from the name of this blog. So there I am, pouring some frozen blue tastiness, when the machine jams! Oh noes! Well, I wiggled the handle a bit, turned it off and on, then all of a sudden -- PSSSSHHHHH! -- it exploded. The blast of the slurpee nocked the cup to the floor, hit the drip tray, and covered me in blue slurpee. I am not kidding at all, I was seriously covered in the stuff. My arms were covered from my hands to my elbows and it was all down my front from my neck to...well, to my thighs. So I went to the counter and was like "excuse me, the blue raspberry exploded" and the guy was all "yeah that happens, here's a washcloth, don't worry about the floor". So I got most of the slurpee (that hadn't already melted) off of myself, got a coke slushee (my other favorite flavor) and headed home smelling extremely fruity, feeling extremely sticky, and with a suspicious wet patch on my crotch. Good times.

So I got home, washed the stickiness off, and changed my clothes. Then we had to take my kitty, Schroeder, to the vet. Now, Schroedie is a big boy. He's 32 pounds. He...actually doesn't eat that much and he's active, so we just keep an eye on him and figure that that's just how he is. And he's a sweetie. Anyway, he doesn't exactly fit in the cat carrier, so I just put a towel over him and hold him in my lap while mom drives. So we got to the vet after a long ride (he's anxious about the whole "car" thing and the towel is for shade (since he's black and gets toasty in the sun) and to block the view out the window because that makes him nervous). And so we're sitting at the vet's office in the lobby thing and I see a lady mopping and I think "It's a good thing she's mopping because this place smells like pee. It really smells like pee." Then I think "Man, Schroedie's warm. I think my legs are sweating." And of course you know where this is going, but it took me a minute to put the two together and realize that Schroeder had peed. On me. And my mother was absolutely hysterical, she was laughing and laughing while the nice lady at the desk got a bag for the wet towel and got me a clean towel and so on.

Well, we got home and I was damp and stinky, so I opted for a shower in addition to another wardrobe change. Then I went and chucked my sticky fruity clothes and my smelly cat-pee clothed into the washer and as I was pouring the detergent, it sloshed and my arm was covered in detergent. And then I gave up on doing anything tidily ever again.

And that was my day of spillage.

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