Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Today, Thus Far

It is only 12:45 and today has been quite the day already. I keep looking around the corner and behind bushes, waiting for the Candid Camera guy to pop out and say, "You're on Candid Camera!" (is that show even around anymore?)

It started this morning at Starbucks. The barista, a tall, lanky fella, welcomed me with a big, warm smile, "Welcome to Starbucks! What can I get started for you this morning?" I look up, smiling, ready to say, "Can I get a Grande Awake with 1 tea bag, please?" when I look straight at his nose. Usually, I will smile and place my order while making eye contact. But I stopped at his nose today. And he had, hanging just inside his right nostril, dangling to his nose hair, a largish white booger. And on the outside of his left nostril, a smaller, but equally white booger, clinging to his skin. The right thing to do, of course, is to say, "Excuse me, sir, but you...you have...something..." and trail off while brushing your own nose, to demonstrate to him that he needs to do the same. It would have been really easy to do. And far more polite than the series of giggles that overtook me. Where in the world was the guy to pop out and say, "You're on Candid Camera!"

Next, I'm at the office and realize my plastic water bottle is empty. (Yes, I realize that the BPA is not good, nor healthy for me. I just keep forgetting to bring my aluminum bottle to work). Get up from my desk, go into the kitchen, where the water cooler is and, lo and behold, no water bottle on top of the cooler. I hunt down a water bottle, downstairs in the file room. I lug the water bottle up onto my right shoulder, my right hand bracing the belly of the bottle, my left hand holding on to the spout. I feel solid, stable. The 20 stairs ascending me look like a piece of cake. I'm even wearing flats today, so I'm not worried one bit. I charge up the stairs, thinking this is a great workout. Until I reach stair 7. At stair 7, I miss the step with my left foot. My toe hits it, but a solid landing is not made. I stumble, but think I am going to right myself before any injury is caused. Or before this bottle plummets down the stairs. Buuuut no. I cannot save myself, because both hands are occupied with holding this monstrosity on my shoulder. So I manage to stop myself with my left knee and my left elbow. Embarrassing enough, by yourself, to fall UP the stairs, right? Add in that, unbeknownst to me, I had an office mate following behind me, until I heard the guffaw and, through laughter, "Are you okay?!" Majorly embarrassed, I pull myself up off the stairs, lug the water bottle back up to my shoulder and manage to make it the rest of the 13 stairs up. I realize, of course, after I get back to my desk and my face returns to its normal shade of white, that my knee and elbow are both seriously rug burned. Ouch. "You're on Candid Camera!!"

And last (hopefully!)...I'm fighting off a cold of some sort. My throat is scratchy, my nose stuffy in one moment, runny in the next, and my sinuses are feeling all kinds of crazy pressure. I grab a packet of Emergen-C from my desk drawer, rip off the top, and attempt to pour it into a small glass of water. As I move my hand to pour, the packet slips out of my fingers and directly onto my lap. Nothing spilled, so after I was done cursing the Emergen-C pack, I picked it up and emptied the contents into my glass of water. I chugged the concoction, got up from my desk and returned the glass to the kitchen. Where I ran into another office mate (not the same one from the water bottle story). She looks down at my crotch, stifles a laugh and says, "Uhh. What's with the white powder all over your pants?" I look down and realize that, indeed, Emergen-C powder DID escape during the fall and it now looked like I may have been snorting coke from my crotch.

Lovely. Just freaking lovely. Where in the hell is the Candid Camera guy so I can be done with the embarrassment today?

2 comments:

  1. I am happy to travel anywhere in the state of California, and for friends also out of state. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ohh...hope the day got better :)

    And while I don't smoke pot, my verification word was rephr....reminded me of reefer. Like pot. Ok, done.

    ReplyDelete

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