If you’ve done something recently that made you feel like an idiot, or as if you’d lost all common sense … allow me to share this gem with you so you know you’re not alone.
Last night around 5:30, I lit what was left of a candle in our bathroom. A nice blue-green candle, smellin’ like the sea, chillin’ in a cute metal holder full of various sized slits.
I forgot about it.
Like, really forgot.
Around 11, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and commented for probably the fourth time “weird …the diffuser is making it sort of smokey in here tonight” as I walked through the kitchen.
The bathroom also had a nightlight on which is why I hadn’t noticed the glow on previous trips… and the candle was on the top shelf… of a tiered and of course, grated etagere.
This poor neglected candle had burned down to its bottom, dripping a trail of its lovely scent and waxy existence through the holder, and through the grates of each tier onto everything in its wake before finally hitting the floor.
Black smoke on the white ceiling tile and all around the top of the room. I mean, ALL around.
Did I mention that the bathroom is like 25 square feet? With no ventilation?
And we keep the door half closed over so the AC doesn’t float in there instead of the good parts of our place.
Oh! I almost forgot – I recently spent like 3 weeks of my free time patching, priming and painting those walls. And then scrubbing and updating that hideous linoleum with a (two actually) fresh coat of porch paint. Sacrificed a gel manicure, two t-shirts and a pair of sweats to this project as well.
All that work and it’s being threatened by some “garbage ass Target candle in an IKEA holder and how the fuck didn’t we notice this hours ago?”
So here I am at 11:30, feverishly trying to scrape the dried wax from the painted floor, without scraping the painted floor … and getting the wax off the metal shelving without scratching the metal shelving … and picking/rubbing/scratching it off the toilet tank, the hairspray, the handle of the hairbrush, a bottle of lotion and the bins these things are stored in.
I’m barefoot, stepping on hard bits of wax, forehead sweating from leaping up to wipe the tops of the walls, cursing myself for my love of ambience and hate of overhead lightning.
I used a butter knife wrapped in a baby wipe. Well, like 8 different baby wipes. I also used half a roll of paper towels and what feels like an entire bottle of multi-purpose cleaner.
I think I got it all.
I’ll be doing a thorough examination and bathroom cleaning after work, but man what a jackass.
So yea, chin up, I’m pretty sure whatever stupid thing you’ve done this week doesn’t hold a candle to this.