Good, Good Morning

6:45: Put underwear on backwards

7:39: As I am standing at the train station, I realize that I have left my office key, my bathroom key and my gym lock key all at home.

8:58: Spill coffee on my shirt. It looks like I may be lactating brown.

9:40: I’ve let my pen draw on my thumb. It’s quite abstract.

10:30: Phone call from an irate former client. “I want to talk to someone that has some fucking common sense. I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you people. I am going to sue your ass.” Good morning to you too, Ma’am. She hangs up. And then proceeds to call 15 more times over the next 18 minutes invoking me to do things that are anatomically impossible and she also questions the legitimacy of my parentage.

11:02: My pen falls out of my mouth. Of course I kept it uncapped so when it hit my pink shirt it left a lovely dark blue stripe.