One of Those Days

Ever have one of those days? Of course you have. Granted, you'd be hard pressed to define what "those" meant, but you know what I'm talking about.

I'm smack in the middle of one, which is why I'm sitting down to eat my lunch at 2:30 in the afternoon. Actually, it started yesterday. Now I'm just slapping that thigh and riding the wave.

Yesterday, while in the midst of purifying my compounds, the HPLC I was using decided to reset itself. This annoyed me only slightly (slightly as in I was simply telling it to go to hell, as opposed to coarser, more physically impossible curses). I reset everything, decided that my compound wasn't completely lost...yet...and so I started it back up. The machine injected my sample and, once again, shut down.

It was at this point, while I was telling the machine to fuck itself, that an angry cloud actually appeared over my head as I grumbled and left. The joys of lab life. This was only a little bit after I burnt my thumb on some steam from my lunch (which, truth be told, wasn't worth getting burned over).

I coasted through the remainder of the afternoon, my anger waning. As I got home, I decided to rest for a moment or two before dinner. I laid my pretty little head down at 5:15, thinking I'd start making dinner in fifteen minutes. A moment later, it was 6:30 and I was panicking because there wasn't enough time to cook, eat, and get the kids in bed at the appropriate time.

I dashed downstairs and asked what they wanted for dinner. My daughter said Mexican; I said good enough, off to Taco Bell we went. I tried to hide the evidence, but the ass concerto that I serenaded my wife with last night gave me away. That, and I totally confessed when she crawled into bed beside me.

This morning, when I got up, I realized we were out of coffee. THAT should have told me how the day would be going. I get to work, pour the stuff that they offer here down my throat, and dash off to my meeting. During the meeting, the coffee runs its coarse, so that by the meeting's end, I gotta toss a major whiz. I make it back to the lab, do some stuff to allow the bathrooms to clear out (they're always packed right after a meeting like that) and then proceed to go and take care of my business.

Only problem is...while I'm standing in front of the urinal...I find it difficult to snake my dick out of my underwear to commence with the pissing. What the hell? Did I shrink? NOOOOOO!!!!

Finally, I was able to unleash my horror upon the urinal. I tucked myself back in and went about my business of preparing for my next meeting. I get a few tasks done and then the coffee and last night's Taco Bell run their course, and I realize I've got to go for a sit-down in the restroom. No problem. I go down, my favorite stall is free, so I drop trou, sit down, and begin to relieve myself.

That's when I look down at my pants and underwear wrapped around my ankles.

I am wearing my underwear inside out.

So, no. No shrinkage. No pencil dick. No turtling.

Just an idiot who can't dress himself.