...and not in a good way.
This is the first Friday of the month, which means art gallery festivities all over the city. I host an acoustic music series at the Harrison Center to coincide with their gallery opening.
I actually remembered it when I got dressed this morning. I wore my denim skirt (the famous skirt of this post. It does not look nearly as crazy with out the stripped knee socks), a black tee, Dansko Mary Jane shoes and some "artsy" jewelry. My plan was to stay downtown, meet my parents, sister Ann and her lovely husband Tim.
This morning I also remembered to take four packages of candy making chocolate to give to one of my coworkers. I just forgot to take it out of the truck.
Did I mention that it was 90 degrees today?
I slid into the drivers seat after work and noticed the packages of hot gooey mess on the passenger seat. I decided that I would pull up next to the dumpster and toss them. I grabbed them as I was opening my door. The chocolate started oozing out of the wrappers.
My reaction was to hold on tighter--squeeze harder.
It started squirting out of both ends of the packages -- all over me, the truck and the parking lot. Hot goopy chocolate running down my legs in to my shoes between my toes. Icky chocolate sliding down the door of the truck in to the pocket that holds my CDs. Chocolate all over the seat, floor mat and the carpeting. I actually burst in to tears. I'm not sure if it was the pain from the chocolate or wondering how I'm ever going to clean it up.
I was tempted to peel my clothes off right there. Fortunately/unfortunately that neighborhood is not unaccustomed to half naked crazy women walking by.
I had to head for home -- and almost crashed when my slimy foot slid off of the brake.
I'm skipped dinner for an attitude adjustment, but I'm ready to head back out for the music.
I do smell quite sweet.
I stuck my skirt in the freezer so the chocolate will harden.
If only I could do that to the truck.
How long would it take me to drive to Alaska?