Do you ever get the feeling that it just isn't your day?

The sandals I wore to work this morning have proceeded to give me blisters on each foot and in various locations on and around my toes. They also, having a leather sole, make a farty sound whenever I walk, not unlike that armpit trick I never mastered. Little did I know I could re-created it with the help of my now-inflamed feet.

At least I didn't spill coffee on myself today. That was yesterday. I was wearing a white dress. I knew well enough not to pack chips and salsa for lunch (opening refrigerator for jar immediately conjured images of horrible salsa/stigmata/period stain on nice, white, bias-cut Ann Taylor cotton), but did not take into account that once the lid was put on the coffee at Starbucks that I should not, under any circumstances, remove it. Especially not to add ice to my "iced" coffee (quotation marks necessary as it did not resemble anything cold and was, in fact, too hot to drink easily with a straw. Much like sucking down broth or those evil Campbell's Soup-to-go cups that seem like a scalding waiting to happen.) In replacing the lid, I crumpled the cup and emptied the contents on to the floor of the office kitchen and the lower half of me. Right when the managing editor walked by. This is how she knows me now.

This is also not the first time I have managed to spill coffee onto a white article of clothing in the month that I've had this job.