Failure to Adult

Like it says on the tin, as the saying goes, today's post is about me and my general failure to adult as it pertains to me missing #WIPWednesday last week.

Not that my propensity toward bad adulting is news, mind you, but I've been doing so much better lately. Hubby and I updated our will, switched financial planners, started a few new mutual funds, refinanced the mortgage and finally called an exterminator to come capture the gigantic woodchuck who claimed our backyard as his two years ago.

So you know, adulting. I've been doing it. Especially in light of the fact that I started my first non-freelance job in years last month, which has involved a lot of actual adult expectations like not wearing pajamas all day. I'm working at a library and loving it. I mean, how could I not? I'm pretty sure I was born to talk about books, and now it's literally my job.

It's been hard adjusting to scheduled work times, though. I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty sure I'd cry if I actually did the math and figured out just exactly how much of my new salary was going to the childcare expenses we didn't have when I was working from home. But I digress.

Last Wednesday's failure to adult was epic, not because it was huge but because it went on for pretty much the entire day. It started with me dashing out of the house without shoes because I was already late for my early morning all-staff meeting. It was my first one and the director was going to be speaking, so I didn't want to be late. (I did realize my lack of shoes before I pulled out of the driveway.)

All the coffee, all the time.

I was so harried, in fact, that I didn't have my morning cup of coffee at home. Those of you who know me can attest to the fact that I'm not fully functional until I've had at least one, the stronger the better. Well, in my campaign to be a better adult, I'd finally broken down and run a cleaning cycle on my Keurig. With white vinegar. Anyone see where this is going?

While I did the responsible thing and ran a few cycles through the machine with the vinegar, at some point I must have stepped away to break up a sibling wrestling match or rescue kittens from a burning tree or possibly I just got distracted by something shiny, as I am wont to do.

Anyway, I didn't run the full reservoir of vinegar through the machine. Fast forward to the next morning as I dash out of the kitchen with a freshly brewed travel mug in hand, sans shoes, and bolt for work. I didn't check the traffic like I usually do, and I paid for it by getting myself stuck in a traffic jam that very nearly made me late for my morning meeting. You know, the one with the ENTIRE staff of my new workplace.

Usually by the time I come in for the day someone has opened the parking lot, but since it was still early the automated arm was down. Not a problem, necessarily, since I have the card to open it. But I have tiny T-Rex arms, which meant after several failed waves of the card by the machine I had to actually put my car in park and get out to open the damn thing...while my co-workers piled up at the entrance behind me, waiting for me and my tiny arms to get my shit together.

On the bright side though, I was on time. I congratulated myself on getting there before the meeting started, and I settled myself into a chair and even gloated a bit that the shoes I'd tossed on after running back inside for a pair even matched. Adulting! I was doing it.

And then I took a sip of my coffee, right as the director started speaking.

The coffee that had been brewed using white vinegar instead of water because I'd walked away mid-Keurig cleaning.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the taste and smell of vinegar? I can't stand it. I won't eat most hot sauces because of it, and walking into a place that serves fried fish with malt vinegar is enough to make me gag.

And I'd just taken a healthy swig of vinegar coffee. With cream, which had curdled and had the delightful mouth feel of day-old vomit.

Somehow, I managed to swallow it and not do a spit-take during the director's speech. And after absentmindedly taking a second sip a minute or two later (see above statement in re: Bru's functionality without caffeine), I even put it under my chair so I wouldn't forget and drink it again.

And then a spider came down from the ceiling and landed on my hand. I somehow managed not to scream and brushed it off, earning a concerned look from one of my coworkers but otherwise escaping notice. Until the fucker came back, and I noticed him crawling up my sweater. After frantically smacking myself in the breast, I decided my co-workers' opinion of me probably couldn't suffer more than it already had, I turned to the person next to me and muttered something about a gigantic spider of doom. She just smiled and swiped its silk out of the air and tossed it to the side, which I totally could have done if my introduction to it hadn't involved it swinging in front of my face, ninja style.

Anyway, my day didn't get much better from there. I was stuck with the taste of curdled milk and vinegar in my mouth for most of it, helped along by the fact that I'd forgotten my lunch in my shoeless dash out the door.

So by the time I came home, I was grumpy, starving and still more than a little queasy because my kitchen still smelled like the delightful hot vinegar coffee I'd had the misfortune to swill that morning. Which is why there was no #WIPWednesday last week. Do you absolve me of my sin, dear readers?