I have a routine. Every single morning, I do one, two or all three of the following: I go to the bank. I go to the cleaners. I buy my coffee. I do this stuff all the time. You'd think that by now, I would have mastered these activities. I mean, I do them DAILY!
So, I come back into our domicile. I place my dry cleaning on top of The Dog Without a Name's crate. I place my purse on top of the crate. I go to put my coffee in my right hand, and instead of handing my coffee to myself, I dropped all 24 ounces of it on the floor. The top popped off. The bottom of the cup exploded and it all made this awesome "splooorsh" sound. And then I had to clean up 24 ounces of coffee off the floor. And then I cried.