Why me?

I'm sure eventually the novelty of the blog will wear off and I won't update 3 times a day anymore, but for now, I've got things to get off my chest and this is the way to do it without irritating anyone...people are busy, can't be bothered hearing/reading about my issues--unless they choose to by coming to the blog and reading them. In which case it was your dang choice and I don't want to hear about it.

So I was having a pretty normal day...managed to make it through breakfast without spilling coffee on my white shirt or yogurt on my black skirt (I have discovered there is no "magic" color to wear--if it's light, I'll spill coffee, if it's dark I'll spill yogurt or makeup), no runs in my stockings, and apart from the pistachio incident (which, let's face it, is pretty normal--I mean those dang pistachios occasionally take some force to bust open, and me without my nutcracker) managed to escape cuts, bruises and falls. Then I go into the bathroom, press down on the liquid soap dispenser pump, and SPLOOSH, soap rockets out of the dispenser onto my purple sweater. Ok, so it's soap, no big deal, right? Except for I had to rinse the soap out with wet paper towels, so now I've got a huge wet spot on the front of my purple sweater, along with bits of white paper towel (which is SO attractive). And you know this wet spot ain't going to dry nicely--there will still be soap in there that I didn't manage to rinse out, so the spot will probably be visible through the rest of the day. Good thing I never meet with anyone who judges me on that sort of thing.

Stay abnormal, everybody.