My Bad Life.

["Higgins, Lisa" <LHiggins -at- carrieraccess -dot- com>]

So, this morning, I was ironing my black pants (the ones with the smelly
problem), and I was ironing those pants in the dark! So, then, I didn't have
a little water spritzer, so I said, "Hmm. Look! There is a can of room
spray! I will spray them with this, which will serve a dual purpose of
helping with the ironing thing, and plus, it will maybe help to stave off
the smelly pants problem! I will be just like Zsa Zsa Gabor today!!!"

HA! I am such a clever (and glamorous) hen!

So I sprayed the room spray (Smell This: Fresh Mown Grass!) directly into my
left eye. OUCH!

So then, I say, "That could have been prevented," and I get dressed and get
in the car, and I am all a-driving to work, and I notice that my pants look
kind of funny. They are not only completely coated in a thick layer of
stuff--Frances feathers and stupid cat hairs and lint and coffee filters and
orange peels and rotted fruit and chicken bones and dessicated meat--but due
at least in part to my temporary disability, I ironed some really weird
shapes into them. Specifically, I ironed a gigantic sagging part right onto
the crotch. 

PLUS, that one twinset I was airing out did not air out very well, and I
reek of mothballs. Like HARSH. I assume I didn't notice this because of the
overwhelming smell of "Fresh Mown Grass" coming out of my left eyeball. But
I am noticing it now, all right. Yessiree.

So poor well-meaning coworkers who approach me to pick lint off my butt are
rewarded for their efforts with BIG GIANT WAVY STINK LINES full of mothballs
and that weird chemical smell that my pants are--yes, despite my valiant
efforts--hard at work producing.

In conclusion, please make me throw away these haunted pants when I come
home tonight!