I spoke too soon...

I'm sitting at work, barefoot. Lemme 'splain...

This morning I mentioned to a co-worker something along the lines of "I'm surprised I haven't spilled the jar of pickled garlic I brought for the early 4th party we are having today. Can you imagine what that would smell like?" (I'm asking for it, aren't I?)

Fast forward to party time.

A different co-worker had to open the jar 'cause it was sealed too tight and I'm just a girl. It sposhed out a little when he finally torqued it open. I cleaned up the spill while he forked out a couple of cloves and put the lid back on the jar. (Here's where it gets good.) I said, "Let me wipe the jar off." and reached over and picked it up by the lid.

SOMEONE DIDN'T SCREW THE DAMN LID BACK ON! He just placed it on top of the jar.

So now we offically know what it would smell like if the pickled garlic got spilled.

My shirt was doused. Juice ran down my left leg and into my sock. I got a replacement shirt, but I was still wearing the wet sock. I took off my left sock and shoe, but it felt weird to have just one bare foot. So now I have two bare feet. And I can blame the pickled garlic if someone asks, "What's that smell?"

Life is grand.

I'm listening to the Barenaked Ladies - Barenaked for The Holidays for all of the idiots who drink and drive this weekend and won't be around to enjoy Christmas this year.

Happy (and safe) 4th to you all.