Writer. Adventurer. Currently working on The Dreamless City, a series of steampunk novels and short stories.
Based on the mostly true events of two o’clock today.
I’d been feeling pretty good about things, which is a sure sign of impending doom. It was Monday, and I actually had put together an outfit today — black blouse, grey skirt, trendy scarf, and my favorite platform pumps. I might have a stack of invoices to tackle that would choke a hippo, but I was getting ready to make myself tea, then all would be right with the world.
It was a new Oolong tea my friend had brought back for me from China. It smelled heavenly, the perfect blend of bitter tannins balanced with green freshness. And people always talk about how healthy Chinese teas are for you, so I was rewarding myself for my workday perseverance and having a tasty treat too. Win-win.
This next part is hard to explain because I’m not exactly sure what happened. I had my mug in hand, filled with hot water to the brim, then lost my grip. Hot water sloshed everywhere, including into my platform pumps. Needless to say, I ripped my shoes off my feet as quickly as possible.
I also swore at the top of my lungs, right there in the middle of the break room kitchen. I didn’t say damn, shit, crap, or anything else mildly crass. Oh no, I totally kept it classy and dropped a perfectly enunciated F-bomb just in time for the CEO’s daughter to walk into the kitchen. Can’t wait to find out what the topic of conversation is at their family dinner tonight.
I didn’t know what to say. There’s no good way to explain pouring hot water into your shoes. I cleaned up the water, made more tea, and nonchalantly walked back to my desk. Cup in one hand, shoes in the other. I was not risking a repeat with the shoes again. As for the singed toes and swearing, well, no one’s perfect.
Why God, why do you let these things keep happening to me? I told you last Sunday that I was trying to be good. I know you heard me. Just give me a chance!