I…am a mess.
Listen, I’m not proud of that. In fact, when Eric started calling me “Mess” as a cute little nickname, I protested because that is not something I want to be. I want to transcend my tendencies to be a hapless walking catastrophe.
But yesterday, I went into the pantry to grab the peanut butter and graham crackers which has been my morning breakfast for a while now, and a box of spaghetti fell to the floor. I picked it up and proceeded to spill almost the entire box onto the floor. So, now I was going to have to play the worst game of Pick Up Stix ever, and I could only bring myself to do some of it because I was hungry and hadn’t even had coffee yet.
So, I grabbed for the box of graham crackers, and they, too, fell to the floor. Only instead of spilling, it fell from a great height onto the largest side of the box, resulting in breaking every single remaining graham cracker sheet into a bunch of random pieces.
I soldiered on, picking up three sizable pieces and slathering them in peanut butter, which I dunked into the coffee. Only, due to the compromised integrity of the cookies from their fall, it became unstable and the entire thing, except for the one dry corner I was holding, kind of melted and fell into my coffee. I tried to fish it out with another piece of graham cracker, and then, I lost that too. It sank into the coffee which was now filling up with graham cracker peanut butter sludge. I ate the last piece of breakfast dry, grabbed a spoon and dredged my mug of coffee, and drank what I could before giving up and switching to a new mug.
You guys, I can no longer deny it. I am a mess.
EDITED TO ADD: I reached in to grab some potatoes for dinner, and somehow a box of protein bars leaped off the shelf to attack me. So, the issue is clearly that pantry. Not me. I’m perfect!