Murphy’s Law Monday

We already know that I’m not graceful, nor am I skilled at transporting food from plate to mouth without a pit stop onto my clothes. But, today’s Case of the Mondays was truly dreadful. I’m surprised I’ve even managed to type this without somehow screwing it up.

The day started with my best frenemy, the snooze button, winning (again). I woke up 23 minutes before I was supposed to be at work, giving me 13 minutes to get ready and out the door. I was down, but not out.

That is, until I dropped my intended shirt for work INTO. THE. TOILET. You heard right. I was pulling jeans off my shower-curtain rod, and I inadvertently dragged the shirt off as well — allowing it a perfect flight into the porcelain bowl.

I found a backup blouse and put the other into the sink to be dealt with later. Rushing out to my car, I cursed myself for not packing a lunch last night. I’d have to spend my lunch hour fighting the crowds, instead of running errands like I planned …

… After finagling a parking spot and ordering my food, I reached into my purse for my wallet. With it nowhere to be found, I stammered like an idiot and fumbled for cash — but I knew full well I didn’t have enough on me to pay. Luckily, my angel Rachel was with me, and she covered me so we could get the H outta there.

The rest of the day hasn’t proven as miserable, but I’m no fool. I’m waiting patiently (for once in my life), for the next disaster to take place. And, considering it was one of my many nicknames in college, “Murphy’s Law” and I appear to be biffles. Joy.