This morning started out well. You know those good omens like: quickly finding a professional outfit, having time to eat breakfast and having time to get your lunch packed away into your tote bag. I arrived at work early, and diligently began working on all the projects which had gotten neglected while I was out Friday.

I felt so virtious. I was sure I was emitting a halo. Our internet was down, so there was nothing for me to do but work hard. Busily typing, adjusting my glasses, printing reports, finishing piles of paperwork and answering my cell pho-- Wait. I had to find it first. So I start digging around in my tote bag which also housed my lunch.

MY LUNCH. My lunch, which included quite a bit of delicious gravy I made the night before, ALL OVER MY TOTE BAG. I start ripping things out of my tote. Keys, lipsticks, paperwork, files, sunglasses and cell phone (which was replaced only a few months ago).

I forgot everything else and started laying papertowels across my desk, laying out my belongings oh so carefully and lovingly! My cell phone screen wasn't blank! And then it shut down--I wiped off all the gravy and booted it back up--and it booted back down.

Hmm. I decide that I will visit the cell phone shop over lunch.

I finish wiping off my belongings and start wiping out my tote. There are PUDDLES of gravy in the corners. While this is quite disturbing in and of itself, I find it quite interesting that my tote seems to be tight enough to hold gravy. No sooner did I think this thought, than one end of my tote starts leaking gravy all over my dry-clean only outfit, concentrating heavily on my light colored pants.

I start laying papertowels over my lap and finish the tiring process of wiping down my belongings and my tote with instant handsanitizer. Once this is finished, I carefully disassemble my phone as much as possible and ruefully eye it. Hoping it can survive for an hour until I can scurry into the cell phone shop to get it repaired.

And then, much to my dismay and amusement, smoke starts emitting from my cell phone. SMOKE! IT IS OFF! WHY IS SMOKE COMING FROM THIS EXPENSIVE PIECE OF EQUIMENT I JUST REPLACED?!?!

Calamity frickin' Jane is my name.



All I ask is that I make it down the stairs safely to my car on my way to the cell phone shop.