Yesterday I worked all day long in the garden center, which was something of a treat. If you're one of those people who enjoys lifting 40lb bags of Humus & Manure, that is. And I happen to be. One of those people.

Ok, I won't say that I enjoy that part, especially, but I do like conversing with ye olde gardener when he or she is done with their shopping. I get all sorts of sage advice.

Sure, the pharmacy is full of Ye Olde People who can give an up-to-the-second forecast for the evening, but Ye Olde Gardener will blow your mind with the things they know. (Few minues later.) I can't think of any really good examples, so you'll have to trust me on this. (I know, lame. I'll try to think of some funny shit when I'm at work this morning.)

One of the things that the morning Garden Shop associate is in charge of is draining the outdoor area of the shop. There are drainage grates at both ends of the area, and they water the plants very early in the morning through a sprinkler system. Unfortunately, there's always a bunch of plastic and "plant matter" floating around in there, and it clogs up the drains.

So yesterday morning, armed only with a cheapo broom and wearing my crocs, I took care of business. Unfortunately, the water was about five inches deep and I had to stand in there and hold the "plant matter" back with the broom while it drained. IT took about 10 minutes. My feet were soaking.

Now, the thing about Crocs is that they're not really known for their breatheability. At least not the holeless ones that I own. So I guess my feet were marinading in plant-matter water all day long, because when I got home, they looked like I'd been in a cold hot-tub for about nine hours.

I had corpse toe.