Running Late was NOT in the Plan

Today has not proceeded as originally planned. I got up early this morning and…okay…well, early for me, anyway. (Hey, I consider even five minutes before my normal wake-up time “early” – okay? And this was like a half hour earlier than normal!)

My plan was to fortify myself with some caffeine and then forage in our sadly depleted fridge for some sustenance. I figured I should even have enough time to wash a load of darks and could take my time getting ready for work instead of racing around and flying out the door in a mad dash to get to work on time.

That was the plan. And isn’t it interesting how life throws us curve balls?! (I am not, by the way, very good at fielding curve balls.)

But, anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I headed downstairs and the first item on my agenda was to free the little kitties from their sleeping quarters. Only I discovered that Vince had let them out when he came downstairs at 4:15am – and never put them back inside their prisons, er, kitty condos when he left for work.

Fortunately, the little angels were quietly napping on the loveseat. Since they’re not always quite so angelic, I cringed a little bit as I headed into the dining room because I was sure I’d walk into total mayhem and destruction. But neither the tablecloth nor the candlesticks had been disturbed and no plant on the premises had to give up its life to the little furballs.

Wow. All quiet on the dining room front.

Next, I walked into the kitchen. I wasn’t too worried that they’d gotten on the counter and played field hockey with my car keys – mostly because they’re still a little too small to jump up on the kitchen counters.

Curiously, the front burner on the gas stove was on. Barely, but still on nonetheless. On the burner was the pot in which Vince usually cooks his morning oatmeal. Since he knows very well that I’m not terribly fond of oatmeal, I was sure he hadn’t made extra for me and was attempting to keep it warm until I arose. Since he had left two hours prior, I was a little afraid at what I’d find when I lifted the lid. But lift it I did.

Inside the pot was a mysterious brown substance that looked nothing like oatmeal. Rather than try to make a guess or – heaven forbid! – taste the stuff, I simply turned off the stove, put the lid back on the pot and backed out of the kitchen.

By this point I was thoroughly exhausted.

Okay, I wasn’t technically exhausted from my activities thus far. Technically, I was tired because I’d had a restless night and hadn’t slept very well. But still. I took a little detour to the couch while I decided my next steps…and promptly fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was precisely 8AM. This is precisely the time I should be walking out the door to get to work on time.

Have you ever startled a cat and all four paws lift off the floor at the same time? Yeah, that was me. Two-legged, but the effect was essentially the same.

I think I even emitted a squeak that sounded pretty much like Jinx sounds when she’s hungry – only a lot louder and a lot more panicky.

I dashed to the kitchen, snagged the kitty food and slung it in the general direction of the food bowls. I picked up the kittens and tenderly kissed each one before flinging them into their cages and slamming the locks closed. I ran upstairs and brushed things and washed things and threw on whichever clothes were immediately handy and slapped a little cover stick and lip gloss somewhere on my face and then ran back downstairs.

I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie on my way out the door, which served as breakfast. As I couldn’t even think about taking the time to heat up the coffee and carefully measure the soy milk and sugar-free flavoring I normally use to make the coffee palatable, I yanked a can of Diet Dr. Pepper out of the fridge and hoped that its teeny bit of caffeine would perk me up to get through the rest of my day.

Yeah, well, that didn’t work so well.

Once I caught my breath and my heart rate returned to some semblance of normal, I focused on the road and managed to get to work um…well…within a few moments of my normal start time.

I figured that was pretty good considering I was snoozing at the time I was supposed to be walking out the door. Plus, I didn’t think anyone at work would really want to see me with bed hair, wearing a robe and my fuzzy slippers and sporting morning breath. I did them a favor – right?!

So my plan for tomorrow? I think I’ll just get up at my normal time. Having “extra” time in the morning is just way too dangerous.

The Unfortunate Re-Appearance of Calamity Jane

When I was a kid I occasionally had a case of the “klutzies” and my dad would affectionately call me Calamity Jane. Naturally, I didn’t like the nickname so I was grateful that my brothers didn’t pick it up. (No, instead they called me Jane-The-Pain. Muuuchh better.)

Anyway, there are times it’s an appropriate nickname. Like this morning, for instance.

Fortunately, I didn’t have a repeat of yesterday’s calamitous situation where a virtual tower of boxes threatened to topple over onto my car. I managed to get my car out of the garage without disturbing a single carton. Nor did any conk me on the head.

No, my problems began before I ever reached my vehicle.

It began as a normal morning. I showered, dressed and applied my makeup without rushing. I made the bed as I do every morning. And I even had time to wipe down the sink and pick up after myself.

And then as I walked downstairs I lost my footing and slid down the last two steps on the slippery soles of my shoes. I guess they don’t call ‘em “slides” for nothin’. When I had both feet planted firmly on the ground and that rush of adrenaline had subsided, I assessed the damage – and realized I was okay. No twisted ankle or throbbing knee. No broken shoe strap. Wow. Calamity averted.

I walked to the dining room feeling relieved. I gathered up my purse and book and jacket and a flower from the bouquet on the table to bring to work. Instead of carrying all that stuff to the car, I set it all down on the counter to prepare my to-go cup of coffee. This was Mistake #1. Well, unless you consider getting out of bed as Mistake #1. (And I have to admit…I’m beginning to.)

Anyway, as my coffee was warming in the microwave, I put my lunch in an insulated bag and set it on the counter with the other items to carry to my car.

My sweetheart of a husband had prepared an egg sandwich for me that merely needed to be zapped in the microwave and assembled. So I put my breakfast sandwich together, wrote a little love note to Vince and started gathering all my stuff to go to the car. I am one of those people who would rather be loaded down on one trip than to make several. Probably I should reconsider this practice. It was Mistake #2.

I had everything in my arms, but made Mistake #3 when I bent down to grab a Diet Dr. Pepper from the mini-fridge in the pantry on the way out the door. The lid on my to-go coffee cup was not firmly attached, and hot coffee ran down my arms. It leaked all over my new insulated lunch bag. At that point, I didn’t even know if my clothes were now drenched in hot coffee or not. I didn’t even care. I stood up, reattached the lid more firmly and made my way to the garage.

Only my arms were so full, I ran into the back door and dropped at least half of the items in my arms, including my egg sandwich which landed face down on the garage floor.

Oh, come on!

Now I suppose it’s possible that someone out there has a garage floor so clean they could eat off it, but (a) I wouldn’t on a bet, and (b) that someone would not be me.

I picked up my stuff and threw it in the passenger seat of the car. And then I picked up the now inedible egg sandwich and set it in the kitchen sink. Despite the fact that I was now on the verge of being late, I even took a moment to wipe off the cement floor. The mess on the mat where we wipe our feet was another problem and I couldn’t take time to hose it off.

Naturally, I didn’t write Vince a note explaining what happened. He’ll come home and see egg sandwich bits in the mat, and the remainder of the egg sandwich in the sink – and he’ll wonder What now? He might even roll his eyes, but I won’t be there to see it.

I suppose it’s inevitable that one of these days blood will be shed. When that happens, I will have to take the time to leave him a note. “Don’t worry, honey, I just ran into the door with my nose. No Emergency Room visit required. Have a nice day!”

Sigh.

I’ve written about mornings where I dropped my egg sandwich. I’ve written about mornings where I spilled my coffee. This morning I did both.

I certainly hope the appearance of Calamity Jane is a limited engagement and that she’ll be moseying on outta here soon. She’s starting to annoy me!