Tuesday evening, on my way home from a concert, I was feeling particularly light what with the lack of the extra 20 pounds of school books on my back. I had my iPod in, with Michael Jackson's "jungle beats" (as my grandpa calls them) showing off in my ears. It was nearly 10:00 and since it was so dark and I didn't feel as though people's eyes were judging me fiercely, I began to dance to my heart's content. I moved my feet in time with the music, skipped, waved my arms about, the whole nine yards. I was having a wonderful time, until I completely lost my balance and nearly fell flat on my face.
Wednesday morning, I was in a rush to retrieve my fruit cup from the fridge and get out the door. As I reached in, I barely registered the immense amount of leftover rice made by my roommate the night before that was perched precariously on the front of the shelf. As I wrenched my food from the depths of the fridge with my left hand, I placed my right hand in front of any other food that had the potential to fall. My efforts were to no avail, however. The rice tumbled from the shelf, ricocheted right off my outstretched hand, and plummeted to it's untimely death on the kitchen floor. Unsurprisingly, the lid flew off and I was left, grumbling all the while, to sweep up the soiled remnants of her dinner.
Later that morning, I was walking briskly to my Humanities class to take the much dreaded exam. As I approached the stairs of Old Main, I saw a couple with some major public displays of affection goin' on. The guy's back was to me, and though I wasn't sure, I thought it was someone I knew. I began ascending the steps, craning my neck to see if it really was him. In my haste to discover his identity, I missed the top stair and fell to my hands and knees with a whole slew of gawking people standing behind me and in front of me. I got up and laughed it off, but secretly I was rather embarrassed.
After I took the Humanities exam, I made the trek to the front of the auditorium-sized classroom to hand in my work. Once I had successfully placed my test in the TA's hands, I proceeded to unconsciously ram into not one, not two, but three people in rapid succession as I walked out the door. I mumbled apologizes to their irked expressions and tried not to look into the smirking faces of the rest of my classmates as I scurried out the door.
And, last but not least, today at work I was taking a 5 minute break to consume a quick bit of lunch at my desk. I pulled my fruit cup out of my backpack, and absentmindedly peeled back the plastic covering. I sat, lost in thought for a few seconds, when all of a sudden my leg started to feel slightly damp. I looked down, and to my dismay, saw that I had succeeded in pouring all the juice from the cup onto my pant leg. Luckily, all the fruit stayed in the cup, but a good portion of my left leg was covered in pear juice. Though I tried to blot out the juice with a large amount of kleenex (kleenexes?), my efforts were not successful. I finally just gave up and ate my pears in silence while inwardly feeling quite ashamed. I also spent a good six hours with a wide circular stain in the lower thigh and knee region of my pants and carrying the smell of pears with me everywhere I went.
Sheesh. This week was absolutely insane. But boy am I grateful that it's nearly over, all my classes tomorrow are cancelled, and after only 2 hours of work I can have a relaxing spring break! I need it so badly. Don't worry though, I'm not being pessimistic here. I find all these events to be rather humorous. (Let's just hope they don't keep occurring!)