Here’s a late post to celebrate surviving “hump day,” and what a day it’s been. Long and complicated story short, I had to drive my boss to the Jerz to pick up an old centrifuge that was being donated to us. Why? The simple explanation: 1) It was free and 2) Dave (boss) wanted it.
Well, Dave warned me NOT to rent a truck from U-Haul, but I thought he was just being dramatic. It was a bit more than dramatic – he basically went straight to his dark place and raged about rude service, ridiculous wait time, broken trucks, etc. The last time he was there, he basically told them that he was going to leave their truck abandoned on the side of the road to be stolen.
I didn’t listen and reserved a truck anyway. Well, I should have freaking listened. I got there at 9 and there were only 2 people in front of me. No problem, right? Yeah… Little did I know that even though I could clearly see 4 people behind the counter, that only one of them apparently felt like helping customers. And then there was one… Unfortunately, I’m not sure if the gentleman in front of me in line was renting a truck or negotiating world peace, but whatever it was, it… took… for… ever… An hour later, I finally got my truck! Unfortunately, I must have forgotten to tell them that I planned on driving the truck off the lot because they couldn’t seem to find the key. Great – no really, I have all the time in the world, don’t worry about it. After 1 hour and 20 minutes, I finally had a different truck, with a key, and the urge to egg U-Haul on my way out of the parking lot. Oh, and they gave me a truck that had a huge dent on the front driver’s side, making it impossible to open the door all the way. Being me, I kept forgetting that fact and tried to swing open the door every time I got in or out of the truck, meaning that it would open a foot before bouncing against the dent and flying back at me to hit me in the hip, arm, knee, etc. Know this, U-Haul – you suck. Big time.
After my crazy, bruise-filled trip to the Jerz, I still had to work my shift in the library. I needed a coffee fix if I was going to make it through work and then through wine class afterwards. Kim told me that the best place to get caffeinated in the school was in Student Services, where they take their coffee very seriously. This posed a little bit of a dilemma for me. On the one hand, I adore coffee and the chance to drink delicious and FREE coffee appeals to both my palate and cheap-gene. On the other hand, I’m a little afraid of going one floor down to Student Services. It’s very quiet and serious there – very adult. Even though I’m almost 30 (shudder), I’m the type of person who’d rather be seated at the children’s table at Thanksgiving. If you haven’t met me or already guessed from this blog, I’m a little… boisterous… and clumsy… Poise is a much enviable, but foreign concept.
I quietly tried to sneak into Student Services. No luck, I was forced to confront “sophisticates” – well-dressed, quietly-confident, career-oriented coworkers. I was awkward and uncomfortable, trying to fill every pause with nonsensical words, while they stared at me, praying for silence. We quickly parted company and I ran into the coffee room, amazed by the room that I never knew existed. There was not one, but TWO coffee devices in this magical caffeine cave: an illy capsule espresso machine and a drip-coffee machine that grinds beans to order when brewing every insulated carafe. I love espresso, but most of the time I just want the largest cup of dark coffee that I can find… for free…
So I grabbed the carafe and began to pour, but there was only a small trickle. Ok, just unscrew the lid a little to allow more flow, right? Well, that’s what I did, but still, just a trickle. You know where this is going and so did I, somewhere so deep inside that my natural inclination towards self-destruction suppressed and muffled it. I put down my ID badge and keys, which also holds my 2G jump drive where I house a lot of photos and posts for Cooking Issues, unscrewed the top a little more and tried to pour again. Ok, just tilt the pot a little more, right? Right? Well, the lid fell off AND landed on my cup, blocking, no DEFLECTING the flow of coffee into it. Coffee everywhere. All over the table. All over my badge. All over my 2G jump drive. Flowing right under both of the coffee machines. I looked down and then just let my head drop down and shake back and forth as I asked the empty room, “Really? Really? Come on.”
I took the lid off my cup and noticed it was only half full. I shrugged, debated whether I should clean up first or fill the cup the rest of the way. Yup, I filled my cup first, put it to the side, then struggled to quickly pull paper towels off the roll. Mid-cleanup, a sophisticate walked by and I froze. He paused, surveying the mess as I looked up guiltily. I grinned like an idiot and just went back to cleaning as he walked a way, shaking his head. Some of us are graceful, and then there’s always me…
On the plus-side, the day’s almost over. Stupid hump day.
Aww … Your Wednesday night’s routine (in “Definitely not a Stepford wife”) would help …
I usually have my carafe disasters at the Trader Joes sample station.
damn those twist-top carafes, right???
I like this term “sophisticate.”