Life didn't shit on me today; it exploded lotion on me.
My penchant for conservation—of all forms—cost me today. In addition to the noble "tread lightly on the earth" philosophy I try to observe, I think I'm a hoarder of things. Including bath and beauty products.
I refuse to cavalierly use my favorite shampoo because it's now discontinued. So I've been savoring it for the last five years. So it should come as no surrpise that I still had a half-full bottle of Bath & Body Works Limelight lotion. Nor should it come as a surprise, if you know me, that I bought it at a garage sale about four years ago or so.
Limelight has been long discontinued, save for in my collection of scents. Perhaps I should have taken a lesson from its obsolescence before that lesson exploded in my office.
See, apparently, when plastic gets old, it gets brittle. And when you apply continuing pressure to it, it's likely to crack. And, oh, did it.
For a moment, as the lotion floweth down my dress/shirt, I cursed my brute strength and not my pack ratty-ness. The aburdness of the situation censored an "oh, F*#&" to a mild, office-friendly "oh, crap." Which prompted my co-worker to come and wipe me down with wet paper towels.
I paid for my pack ratty-ness by spending a day shlubbed out in my gym clothes. It served good purpose, really. By wearing a sweatshirt that could fit two of me (maybe if one of me had "food issues"), I envisioned myself 30 pounds heavier and over-reliant on Hanes Her Way sweats. This helped propel me to the treadmill.
Thanks Limelight. And my trash smells good, too.