Goating and Gloating

I smell like a barn. Not even kidding. 2 people requested a meeting with me and I declined. Because I smell like a freaking barn.

The shirt that I'm wearing today has been worn since Saturday. I drove to Wasaga in it. I cheerleadered in it. I drank in it. I drove back in it. I dined in it. I fed goats and camels and peacocks and monkeys in it (word of advice, don't be too nice to goats. They'll walk all over you). I dined yet again in it. I've spilled soup, coffee, beer, wine, tomato cream sauce, and animal feed on it. This morning I had to wear it to the office because I was too lazy to go home to change last night. Lazy and drinking. Lazy and drinking and wanting to get laid. What.

The good news is, though, I went to the zoo! And I went to Wasaga! And I had a great birthday weekend again! And if doing those things means I have to go to work smelling like a farm stuffed into a warm closet for 3 days, then so be it. Sniff me people - that's the scent of success.