Silver lining?

This morning started just like any morning. I woke up to my alarm, pumped I actually slept through the night, snuggled the pup for a little then got ready to go to yoga class. I picked up the bag I packed last night, made my iced coffee and headed out the door. It's worth noting that I briefly contemplated making a pot for my still sleeping husband but decided against it.

I get in the car and realize I'm almost out of gas and secretly pat myself on the back for getting out of the house early (thanks for not making that thoughtful pot of coffee!) with enough time to stop at the gas station before my class. Now I normally go to the Shell station across from my house, but for some reason today, I decide to go to the Mobil station down the road.

I pull into the station, get out of the car and start pumping gas. A while later the pump clicks off and I pull the nozzle out of the car. As I pull the nozzle out of the car gas starts spraying everywhere. I'm not talking a trickle here. Full on garden hose gas nozzle. Seeing as I haven't had my coffee yet, it takes me what feels like an hour to get the situation settled. I even tried to stick the nozzle back in the car until I could figure out how to make it stop. In case you were wondering, that did not work. After I finally dislodge the trigger and make the gas stop I realize how very NOT like the scene in Zoolander that was, but do realize the very real danger of going up in flames without an orange mocha frappucchino.

I, soaked in gasoline, walk into the station to alert the flunkies at the register that there's gas all over and that the trigger must have been stuck and gas was flowing well after the machine stopped tallying my gas charge and indicated that there was no longer gas flowing into my vehicle. They looked at me like I was some mongoloid who doesn't know how to pump gas. Honestly, who would do that on purpose? There was gas EVERYWHERE! Not just on the ground but on my car, and more importantly, on me. And not just on me, all over me.

At this point I hop back into the car, open the windows and sulkily drive home wreaking of petrol only to strip down at the door, throw all clothing items into the wash immediately (including shoes) and take what turned into a 40 minute shower. Threw all bath mats and towels into the wash after the clothes were done (thankfully they were done shortly after I took the worlds longest shower) because I just could not get the smell of gas out of my system. At this point I can't help but think this is some sort of sick joke because I didn't make that thoughtful pot of coffee, but then I realize that had I taken my yoga class and showered at work, I would have forgotten my deodorant and makeup bag and would have been nasty mc nast nast at work all day so I guess there's a silver lining here. Thanks be to the God of deodorant and foundation that kept me from being the ugly smelly girl at work today. Now I'm the well coiffed and thoroughly makeup'ed girl who is paranoid she smells like gasoline...