A Chimney Worker Who Knew?

My work office is shared by a lovely lady named Pam.  Pam is my mom's cousin's wife.  How's that for small town?  Here's another fun fact, Pam used to babysit me when my hair was white blonde and I couldn't say my "r's" and I loved her house because she had the Schwan man juice called Vita-Sun.  We had sugar free Kool-aid at my house so the "good juice" at Pam's was a treat.  She also made us these amazing things called hot peanut butters.  Think grilled cheese only with creamy peanut butter instead.  So freaking yummy.  All this is to say, Pam has known me my entire life.   Now I work with her and she makes me laugh every single day because her spirit is simply like that.  She brought in skinny jeans and boots to try on the other day just to make sure she could pull off the look.   I promptly told her, "Yes! You can and you will!"  I love when people step out of their comfort zone.  Gives me the warm fuzzies.  

Pam and I went to a work conference out of town not last week but the week before.  I have reviewed before with quite extensiveness the degree in which my packing skills...well...stink.  I pack a ridiculous amount.  I am one person who is in charge of one person and I often have numerous bags.  Here's my justification.  I dress for my mood and how can one predict what mood they will be in before they are actually in it?  Also, I am not so much of an "outfit" wear-er.  As in, I tend to throw things around in my closet until something lands right.  It's hard to pack for throwing items around in closet style without packing the entire closet.  It's not a strong justification at all.  Petty really.

Moving on.  To go to the work conference, I had to pack for five days.  Three for work and then I was heading to the town Sister Pister goes to college to join the rest of my family for a weekend away.  Five days.  With my horrible packing abilities, that made for a whole lot of bags and stuff.

I promise I'm getting somewhere with this.

When Pam and I went to unload the car after the first evening at the conference, I stacked up every limb of my body with loot and drug my suitcase behind.  Then I made my way around the side of the car.  Pam started laughing and yelling and pointing, "Your face!  Your face!"

Hysterical laughing is really what it was; she couldn't even get words out.  I kept asking, "What??!  What is wrong with my face?!"

She just kept coming back with, "Your face!!"

Which at that point was real helpful.

So all the way up to the room, I balanced seven different items in my hands and Pam stopped frequently to try and not have an accident from laughing so hard while still spouting, "Your face!"

Finally, once in the room, I ran to the mirror to see what was wrong with my face.  I didn't really know what to expect at that point.  If you could have seen the hysterics from Pam, you would have been worried too.  What I saw in my reflection was soot like a chimney worker.

Because that seems appropriate to have on your face when all you did was get into a car after a conference and drive to a hotel.  Who doesn't pick up soot along the way?

After several minutes of soot bewilderment, the light bulb went off and I grabbed my gloves.  Just as I suspected, they were covered in black soot.  Because when you fish car keys out of a tail pipe while wearing cheetah print gloves, the tail pipe exhaust soot or whatever it is called transfers to your gloves.  Then, when you drive the car and rub your face thirty-two times with your gloved hand, you end up looking similar to a chimney worker and Pam ends up almost peeing her pants.

And yes.  Yes I pack apples and pears.

I told you I have packing issues.  I wasn't making it up.