Whoop, there it is.

I accidently maced myself this morning. I didn't spray it directly into my eyes or anything, but the apartment, my sock, and especially my backpack smelled of mace when I left this morning. Oops.

Ben bought me some mace back in September when I was out here by myself. It offered me some peace of mind during my train commute and mile + walk into work, but mostly it was for the times when I took the late train to or from the airport after visiting Omaha. And it worked. I had peace of mind.

The only time I remotely thought about it was just this week, when a man barked at me as I got on the train on my way home from work. I looked questioningly to my fellow riders, but none of them acted like anything had happened. I thought about the mace in the outside pocket of my backpack. He barked twice more, and then got off the train just before it pulled out of the PGE Park stop. The other passengers in the "standing room only" section all looked relieved.

Well, that was the only time I thought about my mace until today, that is. I was putting my umbrella back into its pocket on the commute pack when it struck something and wouldn't go any further. I pushed harder, and heard a hissing sound. I stopped pushing, investigated the noise, and realized that the thumb-safety had been flipped, and the umbrella was depressing the button on my tiny mace can. A moment later, the smell hit my nose. Shortly after that, I realized that the top of my foot (in my sock) was soaked. And there was a dark circle of wet mace on the pocket netting. Ben came around the corner, and noticed the smell.

I really had to leave to take Bubba to daycare and catch my train, so I put my shoes on, hoping they would cover the splotch on my socks, and left. What a great start to the day. I did find another penny on my way in, though. That *kind of* cancels out the accidental macing of my family, right?