I knew the schedule was going to be tight yesterday. I had an Academic Senate meeting till 5:30, then a carpool to meet at 5:50 to get to rehearsal downtown by 6:15. And somewhere in there, dinner had to happen.
I borrowed T.'s truck, paid $3 to get a parking spot for the day, was astounded to get a really
good spot, and at 5:30 I bounced out of the meeting on my scooter, picked up a smoothie at the campus snack bar while heating up a Hot Pocket in the microwave they have there, and headed for the truck.
Still, it is very difficult to ride my scooter with a smoothie in my hand, and I decided that I would drink a bit of it, then put it in my backpack, bolstered by other items to keep it upright.
Haste makes waste, as they say.
When I got to the truck I discovered that the smoothie had not tipped over, but the lid had popped off and about an inch of sweet, icy goo had oozed into my backpack. And into my purse that was in my backpack. And onto a New Yorker magazine that was in there too. So I spent about 5 minutes frantically mopping up excess goo -- luckily there was a towel in the truck -- with the result that I was late to my carpool. Thankfully, they waited for me.
Thankfully, my music was spared.
The rest of the sticky mess had to wait until I got home. I had to take everything out of my backpack and purse and wash them, and sponge off my credit cards, checkbooks, etc.
Which is how I found my favorite pair of nail clippers, which had been missing for three days, and my glasses, which had been missing for nearly three weeks and I had given up for dead.The backpack
, true to form, had used secret compartments to hide the long-lost items. But I triumphed! All it took was spilling my smoothie.
My purse is still wet.