Good Day - The Click Five

It's been a hell of a morning - as far as bad mornings go, this one's in the running for first, second and third prize.

I've got an interview later, and have to be in the orchard area by 9:30. I'd planned to get up at 6 to iron my clothes (formal wear ugh) and still have more than enough time to have a leisurely coffee and maybe breakfast. Sounds foolproof, doesn't it? That's what I thought too.

Now imagine waking up to see 6:43 on the clock instead of the expected 6:00.

Speed ironing's never really been my forte, but I managed somehow. Points please! Grabbed a quick cuppa and got ready to hit the road...

Effectively knocking my still-awaiting-growth miniature coffee plant off from my speaker and all over my desk. This is what happens when the logical side of you says you really shouldn't get a plant because no matter how small it is you don't have room in your room (hur hur) for a PLANT with SOIL and you're a klutz as it is so what're you gonna do if and when it all spills over? but the more impulsive side of you goes BUT I WAAAAAAANT A PLANT MY ROOM IS SO DEAD AND UGH A PLANT WOULD BE REALLY NICE DON'T YOU THINK AND I'LL BE CAREFUL I SWEAR I'LL BE SO CAREFUL and beats the logical side to a bloody, sulking pulp.

I should really be glad that damp soil doesn't scatter as much as dry soil does, but then again when you're close to running late for a JOB INTERVIEW you tend to focus not on the I should really be grateful that it was damp soil and not dry but the FUCKING HELL I AM RUNNING LATE AND THIS HAS TO FUCKING HAPPEN WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME GOD instead.

One thing I can really feel grateful for is the fact that my dad actually helped me get most of the soil off my desk and I could do the rest of the cleanup in record time. At least my luck couldn't possibly get any worse, right?

*insert maniacal laughter here*

At some point when my plant got knocked over, I had a stroke of genius and hauled the vacuum cleaner to my room with the intention of sucking all the soil up into the vacuum bag. When my dad said I shouldn't use the vacuum cleaner to vacuum DAMP SOIL (it makes sense, I have to admit - logic doesn't quite apply to me when I panic) I left the vacuum cleaner on the floor and proceeded to forget all about it until all the soil was cleaned up and I was ready once to more to head out. 

You know how vacuum cleaners have those retractable plugs? Like, you flip a switch on the vacuum cleaner and WHOOOSH the whole cord just rewinds itself into the cleaner? 

Yeah, well, I never knew that plugs could shatter upon knocking against the wall. 

If I didn't feel like crying over the plant (now sitting in the trash - sigh) I certainly felt like crying now. That vacuum cleaner had never broken before, and it's been around as long as I have (I'm not kidding, it's ancient) and survived the roughest of treatments. So now it decides to die on me from KNOCKING against the wall. Fuckin' A. Did I mention I was running late?

Sigh. At least from all this I've somewhat learnt that my dad actually has a sense of humour hidden under all that assholery.


Today just can't get any worse, can it?
......Judging from my luck today, I think I really shouldn't be asking that question. 

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