What next?
I've had a string of clumsy mini-disasters lately, including, of course, the broken toilet seat I wrote about the other day. But there are more.
Last weekend I heated up some leftover Indian food for lunch and carried it to my desk to eat while I went online. I guess the plate was too close to the edge because when I put my fork to it for the first bite, the entire plate flipped onto my lap and the floor. Rice, spinach, sauce, shrimp, everywhere. It was inedible. I had to mop it up, throw my area rug and skirt into the washer, and eat peanut butter and toast for lunch. The whole time I was on the floor wiping rice kernels off the cords from my various computer components, I felt like crying. I'd been really looking forward to those leftovers.
The next day I was cleaning and somehow knocked the vacuum against the baseboard and a picture crashed to the floor, its glass smashing into pieces. I swept, vacuumed, put the picture back up glass-less, and temporarily hung the plastic bag holding the broken glass from the doorknob of my bedroom, to keep it out of the way. Except, of course, when I walked past on my way to the bathroom and just barely brushed up against a long shard that managed to slice my leg through three layers of plastic, leaving a long thin gash down my shin.
Last night I was carrying a glass half-filled with Diet Coke into the bedroom, with a book in the other hand, so I could lie in bed and read before sleep. For some reason, instead of tossing the book on the bed and setting the glass on the nightstand, I did the opposite - set the book down and tossed (no, really, playfully threw) the glass onto my warm and waiting bed. I just stared for a minute before running to get a towel, not understanding how I could be so stupid. I had to strip the sheets but the mattress was still wet and I was still tired, so I slept on the living room pull-out sofa.
Now, that's four things, so I can't just say things happen in threes and be done with it. All of them happened within a ten square foot radius, too (the bathroom is on the other side of the wall where the picture hung, which is next to the bed, which is across from the desk, which is next to the doorknob, which leads back to the bathroom.) My own private circle of bad luck.
Last weekend I heated up some leftover Indian food for lunch and carried it to my desk to eat while I went online. I guess the plate was too close to the edge because when I put my fork to it for the first bite, the entire plate flipped onto my lap and the floor. Rice, spinach, sauce, shrimp, everywhere. It was inedible. I had to mop it up, throw my area rug and skirt into the washer, and eat peanut butter and toast for lunch. The whole time I was on the floor wiping rice kernels off the cords from my various computer components, I felt like crying. I'd been really looking forward to those leftovers.
The next day I was cleaning and somehow knocked the vacuum against the baseboard and a picture crashed to the floor, its glass smashing into pieces. I swept, vacuumed, put the picture back up glass-less, and temporarily hung the plastic bag holding the broken glass from the doorknob of my bedroom, to keep it out of the way. Except, of course, when I walked past on my way to the bathroom and just barely brushed up against a long shard that managed to slice my leg through three layers of plastic, leaving a long thin gash down my shin.
Last night I was carrying a glass half-filled with Diet Coke into the bedroom, with a book in the other hand, so I could lie in bed and read before sleep. For some reason, instead of tossing the book on the bed and setting the glass on the nightstand, I did the opposite - set the book down and tossed (no, really, playfully threw) the glass onto my warm and waiting bed. I just stared for a minute before running to get a towel, not understanding how I could be so stupid. I had to strip the sheets but the mattress was still wet and I was still tired, so I slept on the living room pull-out sofa.
Now, that's four things, so I can't just say things happen in threes and be done with it. All of them happened within a ten square foot radius, too (the bathroom is on the other side of the wall where the picture hung, which is next to the bed, which is across from the desk, which is next to the doorknob, which leads back to the bathroom.) My own private circle of bad luck.
posted by medusa at 9:15 AM
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