Pink Elephants

To start this post, I must apologize to my friend Nemesis about a comment I made on her blog about being on drugs. Nem, I think I have topped it all!

Yesterday when I arrived at work, I was quickly informed I spelled something wrong on 50 shirts, and we had to find a way to fix it, so that those 50 shirts weren't coming out of my paycheck. The shirt was for the BYU Spanish Club and on one side of the shirt it was supposed to read something like "los cortes de la muerte." (For those of you who speak Spanish, which I don't, will have to forgive me if you understand this next phrase). Instead, I spelled it "los curtes de la muerte." Apparently the latter phrase means something really bad in Spanish--which the customer did not tell to us.

In, order to salvage the shirts, we have a high pressure type squirt bottle that, when filled with lacquer thinner (paint thinner) and squirted onto incidental ink splatters, they are removed. We tried a shirt, just spraying out the "u" and it worked pretty well. So we showed the customer and she was very happy it worked out. I proceeded to start working on the rest of the shirts after we got the ok. After about 10-12 shirts, I started seeing spots, and getting a slight headache from all the fumes, so I took a break from spraying out the shirts. As I was walking toward the dryer to dry the shirts I had finished spraying out, I noticed the embroidery machine needed some attention, so I started to fix the problem and back up the design so it could catch up to the other stations. I started getting dizzy watching it back up, so I had to just put the shirts in the dryer and go sit down for a bit!

Remember that there were 50 shirts and I was only about a fifth of the way done spraying the suckers out. To make a long story, even longer, (just kidding) I inhaled about a gallon's worth of fumes I would imagine by the time I finished that 50th shirt--I was flying higher than ever! My cousin started joking with me about how I will probably be seeing things on the way home all around my car, etc. Right away, as soon as I get onto the freeway from the on ramp in Provo, I see orange construction barrels, which then as I am talking to Jamz on the phone, I tell her I am seeing pink elephants. Obviously, Jamz is quite confused, so I tell her again that these orange construction barrels remind me of pink elephants. Now Jamz is starting to freak out, wondering who I was, and what the aliens did to me when I was abducted--apparently that morning!

I imagine some brain cells were lost in the process, but at least now I have an excuse for why I am the way I AM!