Good Thing It’s Friday…

For some reason, I’ve been really sleepy this week. I’m even going to bed earlier and still getting up at my regular time…so I’m getting plenty (and I mean plenty!) of sleep. Maybe it’s the cold weather. I far prefer staying snuggled under the covers than getting up and heading out into the cold.

Whatever the reason, I’m not likin’ this snow stuff, even if it is just a “dusting.” Oh, sure, it’s pretty and all – but when I wake up and hear about school delays on the radio, I know I’m going to head into a big ol’ traffic jam and will have to fight my way downtown.

This morning my first instinct was to pull my comfy clothes out of the closet, including my warm fleece jacket. It’s not very professional-looking, but I work in a place where people wore jeans and sweatshirts to our holiday party – so it’s not like I need to dress up. Yet I did. I wore a nice cream-colored blouse with a red blazer and black slacks. I look like I’m ready for another holiday party, except that I don’t have any holiday-party-attending plans today. But that’s okay. Dressing up is what I do and I’m actually more comfortable dressed up a bit than dressed down.

I hop in my car grateful that it came equipped with “butt warmers,” which are perpetually in the “on” mode once the temps outside hit anywhere close to freezing. I rarely wear gloves or button up my coat because it’s so nice and toasty in my car.

So I drive downtown sipping coffee from one of our many travel mugs in between grumbling at the other drivers going speeds of about 5MPH on roads that may have been a little damp, but that’s about it.

When I arrive in the office and hang up my winter coat, I notice that my blouse is all wet. Yes, every time I took a sip of coffee, it dribbled out from the side of the mug and spilled onto my blouse. Because I don’t drink really hot coffee, I never noticed.

Grrrr.

Maybe I should have worn my fleece jacket – I wouldn’t have cared that I had a big coffee spill down the front of me. I could’ve zipped up the jacket and would have been good to go.

Instead, I had to take my blouse off in the restroom and do a quick clean-up to get me through the day. Except that I keep smelling coffee. And I’m not all that fond of the stuff to begin with – so smelling like coffee all day is not really a great thing.

I tell you – I never had these sorts of problems when I drank Diet Coke in the morning.

That’s why I say it’s a good thing it’s Friday. Now it’s just a matter of getting home safely and beginning our weekend. Of course, I have no idea what we’re doing this weekend. Darn me and my organizational craziness of the past couple weeks. We don’t have any cards or letters to write. We don’t have any trees or decorations to put up. We don’t have any gifts to buy (unless we go shopping for ME, which is always a great idea!). And we don’t have any real cleaning/organizing to do. Well, except for maybe laundry - to at the very least de-funkify my coffee-stained blouse.

No, instead we can just R-E-L-A-X all weekend. What an awesome concept. Maybe we’ll have to light a fire in the fireplace and enjoy a glass of wine while watching the flames. Nice. I’m in!

Although I DO think we may have to take a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up a 12-pack of Diet Coke. Just in case.

And the travel coffee mug I used this morning? It’s in coffee mug purgatory now. That’ll teach it to mess with me!

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!

Another Day in the Life

Last night Vince and I subbed in the Columbus Ski Club Euchre league. He was subbing for an actual person while I was simply filling an empty chair – so the pressure wasn’t really on to perform well on someone’s behalf. So I took chances whereas before – when I’d been a regular in the league – I might have played a little more conservatively.

Now I’d love to report that I had multitudes of loaners netting us 4 points at a time and that my final score was a 65 (which would be a personal best). Alas, I’m sorry to say that I got euchred several times and my final score was a less-than-mediocre 32. (For all you non-Euchre-league players, a score of 40 is more or less the norm.)

Sigh. I guess taking risks and chances doesn’t always work out so well, does it?

Oh well, it was just a game. And I don’t think my score gets recorded anywhere – so maybe if I play again as a sub filling an empty chair, I can play as “Anonymous.” Scores of 32 points might not be quite as embarrassing that way!

We got home late, though – at least an hour and a half after Vince’s new bedtime, so he probably had a tough time getting up at 4:15 this morning. Poor guy.

I wasn’t quite as chipper this morning as I would’ve liked either. But I take comfort in the fact that it’s Friday. Thank God.

When I went downstairs to get my coffee, I poured it into a ceramic cup to warm it up in the microwave. A few days ago I’d missed the curved lip of the glass in the microwave, and spilled half the cup inside the microwave. So I’d mopped and cursed and cursed and mopped – and only got about half of a half of a cup of coffee to fortify me for the day ahead.

This morning, I nearly had the same accident as I slid the mug of coffee inside the microwave. At the last possible second, I managed to hang onto the cup when it bumped against the lip of the glass turner. I righted it – and heaved a sigh of relief at having averted another spill.

The microwave did it’s heating and spinning thing and then beeped to let me know my warm liquid caffeine was ready for ingestion. Yay.

So, I opened the door and started to pull out the mug – and bumped the lip of the glass on the way out, so my coffee spilled all over the kitchen counter. Every last drop of it. This time I did the cursing thing first – and then got out the paper towels and sponges and assorted other tools and implements to clean up my mess.

Clearly, I need to pour the coffee into a smaller mug. (Really, Jane – you think?) Except that since my coffee is a complicated mixed bag of coffee, soy milk and sugar-free flavoring, I’ll have to reconfigure the levels with a smaller mug. I’ve got it down to a science with the tall mug I’ve been using.

Or perhaps I should just be a little more diligent when using the microwave.

But anyway…

Because the coffee pot was empty and I didn’t have time to brew another pot, I had considered lapping up the spilled coffee off the counter like a dog – but only for a second. As it was T-minus-Zero and I absolutely had to leave the house that second to make it to work on time, I grabbed a cold can of Diet Dr. Pepper and took off.

When I get home tonight, I suspect the kitchen will still have the lingering smell of spilled coffee – so I’ll have to do a more thorough clean-up job. And, despite washing my hands at least four times, they still smell like coffee. Wonder if there is such a thing as second-hand caffeine and some has hit my bloodstream through my pores.

That’d be good. Because this can of Diet Dr. Pepper ain’t doin’ it for me.

TGIF, people, TGIF.