Modern-day hairshirt

Talk about discomfort. Today I wore a T-shirt to work which irritated me when I put it on. I was uncharacteristically late in getting dressed this morning and I could only grab a T-shirt, throw a short-sleeved collar shirt over it, then head out the door.

For the first two hours at work I was in torture. My entire upper body felt as if it was being pricked on the inside. I was dying to get away and take the shirt off and check out what was the matter.

Turns out a steel wool scouring pad had somehow fallen into a wash load. What likely happened is that the scouring pad got caught up with some dish towels and then wound up in the washing machine. I stood in the bathroom at work picking out thin barbs of shiny steel wool, which were glinting in the light all over the shirt. Imagine wearing a shirt effectively made of barbs of steel wool. Thank goodness I chose to wear another shirt over it. If I didn’t, I would have had no option but to return home during my lunch break to change. It was causing me so much agony I was tempted to change into my workout tank top (which is not allowed in the workplace dress code). Even though I am not being pricked by steel barbs, the torturous agony is still in my mind, and at times I still feel as if I was wearing that T-shirt. How the heck am I going to get the barbs out of this shirt? I might have to trash it.

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