Coffee klutz

That's me. I'm a coffee klutz. I've always said it, and this morning just reinforced my "walking coffee disaster" status.

I was good and brought a commuter cup to work with me, instead of dropping $3 for the local brew. Had the top closed and made it all the way -- on the bus, over the speed bumps, up the escalator -- to the metro... but still somehow managed to drip some on my pants when I sat down. Very annoying, but the pants are black so I dealt.

As it turns out, it wasn't just my pants. I discovered upon arriving at the office that I also managed to splat on my shirt. My off-white shirt.

And not only my shirt, but my boob. My left boob.

And not only my left boob, but the very... how shall I say this?... most protruding, prominent aspect of my left boob.

Yes, the freakin' nipple area!

I dripped coffee on my shirt right at the nipple. Gawldangit.

So, what to do? Let it be and have brown drips at my nips? Or clean it and give the illusion that I'm lactating?

Sheesh.

For the second time in several months, I went to the handicapped stall of the women's room and stripped. I took off my shirt and put it under the faucet to scrub the coffee out. Then I wrang it out and blotted it with lots of paper towels.

Good news? The coffee mostly came out.

Bad news? The shirt became almost transparent. And kinda stuck to me. And yes, while you could no longer see the brown drips, you could see... you get the picture.

Great way to start the day, eh?

In some ways, it was a good thing I had a training to observe all morning. I was able to sit in the back of the room, hunched over and with a pad of paper in front of me. Now my shirt, etc. is all dry, and there isn't too much evidence left of my klutziness. Thank goodness.

I guess I can't handle a full cup of coffee without being properly caffeinated! What is a girl to do?