Wicking Cotton All Day Long
So, the other day, several items came out of my bag sticky. The first one was something from the office that I'd just brought along on a whim, so I figured without even really thinking about it that it had gone in sticky. The second and third things were my sock pattern and my journal. That's about when I got to thinking that there was some kind of problem.
I hauled every bit of junk out of the bag, and there it was: a packet of strawberry preserves from McDonald's with the corner missing. For a second I thought positively nothing of it - I do stupid shit like put an open packet of strawberry preserves in my book bag all the time. Lindor ball peanut butter and saltine cracker crumbs are permanently stuck in the seams of that bag. But then I remembered that I haven't eaten - nay, consumed - a particle from McDonald's for 11 years. Also, I don't like strawberry, or preserves.
I had not put the open packet of strawberry preserves into my bag.
Luckily, in addition to putting idiotic things into my bag, a lifetime of doing so has taught me to protect what I have. My journal rides around in a heavy-duty Ziploc bag, and my sock pattern even came with its own protective plastic sheath. My knitting goes into a plastic grocery bag. I kind of look insane, I think, when I'm pulling all of these things out of their respective bags in public, but I'm already out of place with my shirts that cover my navel and pants that come all the way to my ankles, so a plastic bag isn't going to push me over the edge of cool.
Anyhow, I checked with Other, who denied putting the opened packet of strawberry preserves in my bag*, so it's either a case of mistaken bag identity... or SABATOGE.
*And it's really not like I think he *would* put an open packet of strawberry preserves in my bag, but I didn't want to go straight to sabatoge. And I know he hates littering.
I hauled every bit of junk out of the bag, and there it was: a packet of strawberry preserves from McDonald's with the corner missing. For a second I thought positively nothing of it - I do stupid shit like put an open packet of strawberry preserves in my book bag all the time. Lindor ball peanut butter and saltine cracker crumbs are permanently stuck in the seams of that bag. But then I remembered that I haven't eaten - nay, consumed - a particle from McDonald's for 11 years. Also, I don't like strawberry, or preserves.
I had not put the open packet of strawberry preserves into my bag.
Luckily, in addition to putting idiotic things into my bag, a lifetime of doing so has taught me to protect what I have. My journal rides around in a heavy-duty Ziploc bag, and my sock pattern even came with its own protective plastic sheath. My knitting goes into a plastic grocery bag. I kind of look insane, I think, when I'm pulling all of these things out of their respective bags in public, but I'm already out of place with my shirts that cover my navel and pants that come all the way to my ankles, so a plastic bag isn't going to push me over the edge of cool.
Anyhow, I checked with Other, who denied putting the opened packet of strawberry preserves in my bag*, so it's either a case of mistaken bag identity... or SABATOGE.
*And it's really not like I think he *would* put an open packet of strawberry preserves in my bag, but I didn't want to go straight to sabatoge. And I know he hates littering.
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