The Incident Where Everything I Touched Turned to a Mess

Yesterday. Friday. Not my best day ever.

Morning started with a series of tantrums (3 year old, not me, I swear). And a random red, itchy eye (me this time, not the 3 year old. I looked stoned. Like I smoked pot and only inhaled using my right lung, thus causing only my right eye to get bloodshot).

Made it to the car. Realized that due to tantrums, I forgot to change something REALLY important before leaving the house, and now was leaking everywhere. Desperate times called for desperate measures. I pulled a handful of kleenex out of the box and stuffed it in my underwear, praying that would hold me over til getting to work. Ghetto, I know. But what else could I have done? Mess #1, contained.

We pulled out of the garage only afew minutes later than normal. Not too shabby. On mornings like that, I seriously think there should be a marching band standing there playing "Eye of the Tiger" and a crowd of people cheering you on when you pull away from your house. Is it weird that I actually get disappointed when there isn't?

Anyways.

Two blocks in my commute, my commuter cup full of chai latte tips over and spills everywhere, cuz I forgot to shut it. Mess #2. And mess #3, cuz the second I put it down, it tipped again and spilled again.

At work, I seriously dropped every pen, pencil, book, and piece of paper I picked up. By the end of the day, some of my students were tempted just to sit on the floor to decrease the amount of times they had to get up and down to pick up the shit I kept dropping. Mess #4 was just continual throughout the day.

Oh, and I swear I don't make them pick up my shit. They all are eager to do it. Brown nosers. Kidding. They just want an excuse to get up out of their seats. Half the time they drop their pencils on purpose just for an excuse to crawl around on the floor for a bit.

School day ends, I'm back in the car heading out to run errands. Kiddo drops a full cup of grapes all over the back seat. Mess #5. I drop a grape under my foot and squish it on the floor mat. Mess #6. At store, he wants a banana. I have no wipes or napkins or anything to deal with banana mess (clearly, I was SO prepared). Mess #7. Driving home, I reach for my blue tooth so I can legally call my husband and somehow manage to fling it halfway across the car. We'll call that mess #8, except it wasn't really messy. Frustrating though, cuz I still can't find the damn thing.

Get home. Feeling like I might be in the clear for the rest of the day as I pull into the garage. Pick up commuter cup from the morning, which I apparently forgot to shut. Spill some very old, very cold leftover latte all over me. Mess #9. Get out of the car carrying so many bags full of shit from the day, I look like a Sherpa. Out falls my brand new, most favorite plastic water cup that I use at work. It breaks. Mess #10.

Pause while visualizing me stomping my feet and swearing loudly in my garage. My turn for the temper tantrum. Not my finest moment.

I created mess #11 in my kitchen. Vicious combination of wine and dessert. Totally worth it, and totally deserved, in my opinion anyways.

But what do I know? I'm clearly just a mess!