I had to drive to the suburb of Wauconda for a meeting this morning. It's the kind of meeting at which there are abundant treats, coffee, and three kinds of juices. In short: NIRVANA.
So, I'm driving along, going over the speed limit by 20 miles like everyone else in Chicago, and I remember I brought a thermos of coffee with me. Hurray, thinks I! The thermos is a brand new one I won in a random drawing at the last "let's all be friends and work together in an annoyingly close way" workshop we had at the library. Bonus. They couldn't have picked a better coffee addict.
Anyway, thinking I can probably hit the "open" button and just drink out of it, instead of pouring it into the cup, I untwisted the cap and hit "open." Well, guess what? The coffee doesn't actually come out where that open button is. It comes out about half an inch lower. Anyone moronic enough to try drinking from a thermos without first checking out the logistics therefore gets scalding coffee down her chin - producing what looked like I'd just shaved off a goatee - then down one of her very favorite shirts.
Our dear moron screamed out M*THERF*CKER!, being the worst swear she could come up with at the time (and a pretty darn satisfying one, too). The closest thing that looked even vaguely absorbent was a piece of legal paper, so she grabbed that up and began madly wiping. Looks like the shirt will be saved, but the chin's still a little bit sore.
Oh, but there's more. Wrongway moron can never get anywhere without getting lost at least once, going and coming both. Thinking Mapquest will be right this time (though it's let her down many times before), she printed out her directions. Hmm, well. The directions were a little faulty. As in about five miles out of the way faulty. Five miles in bumper to bumper construction traffic faulty, amounting to about half an hour.
Our favorite moron screamed out her favorite swear again, did an about-face, then proceeded to drive the several miles she'd gone out of the way (fortunately there was no construction on the other side), then she went two or three miles past the library the OTHER way, because again Mapquest neglected to mention the last turn. Moron was convinced she'd either gone insane yet again, or that the library was covered with some sort of invisibility cloak. Ultimately, she decided to try a turn not on the map, et VOILA! La bibliotheque.
Coming home. Being bereft of spatial logic, our moron once again turned the wrong way, this time on a different road, adding another twenty minutes or so to the return trip - though the subdivision she drove through, to be fair, was lovely, in a suburban way.
The good news is she made it home alive, found the lunch she forgot to bring (my husband had hidden it in the refrigerator, the beast), and she has had her repast. Her chin's no longer bright red, but more a pale pink. With appropriate makeup the burn will probably be invisible, like the library in Wauconda, so only the few hundred who read this blog over the next couple of days will know what an idiot she truly is.
Add that to the rest of her shite week and you may be able to imagine her mood.
This weekend's project? Pull everything out of my closet, put in a blanket and pillow, and live there. Hold my calls.