brown.

Yesterday was a - shall we call it...not so great - day at HobLob.

But we will start with the good stuff...I actually cashed in a gift certificate from last year's birthday for a 30-minute massage at this neat little place down in St. Elmo. I have never had a professional massage before and it was lovely. I was a little nervous - you know, stripping down in front of a stranger but she was really awesome about it. She said you leave on what ever clothes you want and then you cover up before she comes back in the room. She explained everything and worked a lot on my lower back and neck, problem spots for me! It was nice! I think I might treat myself another day but probably when I don't have to go put out frieght that day!

So, I got to work, started putting away freight and about 4:30 a customer came into the framing dept. asking about paint. She was trying to paint the frame on a gold mirror a nice shade of dark brown and wanted to know what the best kind of paint would be. It was a little matte and smooth but since the Art Supply guy was already gone for the day, I told her I would help her. I took her over to the crafts dept. and was showing her the paints and she picked up can of spray paint and it dropped on the floor. The lid and spray top broke off and it started spraying everywhere.. And by everywhere I mean all over ME, my pants, my shoes, the floor, the products on the other side of the aisle...everywhere. So, I grabbed the lid (now broken) and covered the unstoppable spray and started hightailing it to the breakroom (2 aisles away) where I know there is a giant trashcan. For some reason (which I later discovered and it was senseless), the breakroom door is locked. At this point, my hands are competely brown and paint is running down my arm. I have to go all the way around 4 more aisles and into the stockroom to find a trashcan...leaving a dripping trail of oil based spray paint for like 60 feet.

Ugh.

So...It's cool. I'm fine. I know it isn't my fault and we can clean but...I realize my pants and shoes are ruined.

Totally ok.

I realize there is paint for around 60 feet through the store that, as it is drying, is starting to look more and more like blood.

Totally ok.

I realize that there is paint in my antique engagement ring and in the ring I had designed made out of my grandmother's diamonds.

Really, really not ok.

I totally burst into tears in the stockroom.

Of course, everyone had a solution. "You should have taken off your vest and covered the can!"

Oh...the vest that is tied on my body in two places? That vest? Fabulous idea! Why didn't I think of that?!?

You could have just let it spray out? Oh...really? And cover and entire aisle and 10 customers in brown paint? No thanks.

As I am standing in the breakroom, using paint thinner on my hands, I hear over the walkie talkies that a mom who's child was "involved in the spray paint incident" wanted her entire outfit replaced and I am standing there with brown paint all over my shoes and pants, I nearly cursed someone.

So, I went home on my lunch break to change clothes. I called Chad and asked him to make me something to eat since my lunch was still in the fridge at HobLob...I got all the way to our road when I realized that my jeans and shoes from changing for yoga the day before were in my backseat all along. I could have just changed at work.

Awesome.

As it turns out, after I got back to work, the store manager (who I thought was mad at me) came back and told me to go get my rings professionally cleaned, by a new pair of pants and shoes and bring him the bill. He said that if it had been my fault and I was just being careless then it would be my problem but since I was trying to help a customer and stop a mess from being any worse, then the store would pay for those things. I guess I like Hobby Lobby after all.

Even though my hands just look really dirty now.