Coffee Klutz

Ever have it where it doesn’t matter what you do, but some days you end up wearing everything edible you even look at? I have those days. Usually they occur on the first day of work, on a day I want to impress someone, or when I wear something that is dry clean only. Today is not an ‘impress someone’, or a dry clean only day, but it is a ‘wear your food on your chest’ day. Ladies, you know how it is. When everything you eat just somehow ends up right there on your bosoms for the whole world to know what a complete klutz you are? I swear, when I eat movie popcorn? I lose so much of it down my cleavage that I get home and have a little snack just waiting for me in my bra.

Today it’s my coffee. It’s one of the usual paper cups with lid affairs. Basic, simple, standard. Ever notice how some of those cup and lid things are just EVIL? Like the coffee finds ways of escaping, or maybe the lid finds ways of shooting the coffee out of the cup and onto your nice white linen shirt. It’s like it’s SPITTING at you. Today the coffee is escaping somewhere between the lip of the cup and the edge of the lid. And it won’t stop dribbling. I’ve finally got this sexy napkin wrap-around thing happening, with the napkin tucked under the lip of the lid, hoping to catch any escaping drink. It’s working fairly well, but it looks like a horrible garbage collection accident happened on my desk. All dirty napkins and wilted paper cup. Sigh. So much for being elegant.

The klutziness does not end with mere beverages, however. I think my balance is off, or maybe I just don’t look DOWN, but I keep running into things and I have got bruises on my legs that would impress a prize fighter. The other day I ran into our very substantial coffee table (it weighs around 300 lbs, it’s marble topped) and barked my shin so hard I saw stars. Rich asked if I was ok, and right then I just could not talk because no word would come out except something of the four letter variety. Now, I have a knot on my shin the size of a small egg. Why do I always bang my leg in that same spot? When I am dead and they dig me up 500 years from now (which would be a miracle because I will be cremated, but whatever, let’s go with it, shall we?) they will see my shin bone and wonder why it has a big dent in it. I also keep cutting corners too close and running into door frames. And banging my hands on things. Etc. Etc. Ow.

When I was a kid Mom always laughed at me when I had “clumsy days”: Those were days where I just could not control all limbs at once. I was like Bambi on ice…growing so fast I didn’t know what to do with all the feet and arms and legs. I was a walking bruise sometimes. I think I still have those days. But now I can’t blame them on growth spurts. I think I am just a klutz.

Shit. I just spilt more coffee. I will just wear brown or black or navy blue from now on. Then at least no one will see the stains or bruises.