There are times when I feel like the unluckiest person in the world. Not unlucky in terms of my life not being good but that things just happen. Stupid things. I make mistakes, and the kind of mistakes where I'm like "really? seriously? why the hell did that have to happen?" Case in point: I've hit six parked cars. And several inanimate objects. Every single time I feel like the dumbest person in the world. If I had just been a bit more careful. Why can't I take time back to remove that mistake?
But I can't. Things just happen. I break the phone. I nick the wall and take paint off of it. I spill drinks in the car. I am getting the coffeemaker ready and coffee grounds go everywhere. Yes, these things happen to everyone, but...like I said, they seem to happen all. the. freaking. time.
Yesterday was yet another one of those circumstances. Getting ready in the morning is a trial. We get Aubrey up, get her dressed, feed her breakfast, and I start packing lunches and getting our own breakfast ready so that we can quickly shower and get out the door by 7:30 a.m. It's not easy. So yesterday, I was getting everything set, while T was taking out our lunches and bags to the car. I am carrying the coffee mugs upstairs, and it happened. I slipped. On the stairs. I managed to catch myself by falling on my knees and not actually spilling the mugs themselves, but I'm sure you can imagine what happened. Coffee everywhere. All over the carpet. All over the walls. Shit. I knew once T heard it the shit would hit the fan. See, I'm married to one of the neatest men on the face of the earth. Organized, neat, your typical engineer. Me, on the other hand, my life exists in some sort of chaotic state. I'm not organized. Things aren't folded properly, things are just shoved in somewhere, my shoes aren't lined up just so in the closet. T's are. And I know it drives him insane. It's not that I don't try. But it's hard for me because I'm just not that way.
So of course, at the worst possible time ever, I made a huge mess. And by huge mess I mean it...HUGE coffee-stained mess. And we didn't have time to clean it up. I mop up what I can and wipe down what I can, but it's done. Magic eraser won't take the coffee off the walls so of course we need to paint where the spots were. And of course, the Resolve doesn't work. So cue marital fight. Cue me feeling like an idiot. Cue T's nervous breakdown. Not good.
I spent all day researching ways to get rid of coffee stains. I've tried Resolve, I've tried the water and vinegar with wet cloth and steaming with the iron, I have tried spraying with stain spray. And the damn spots are still there. Out damn spot, out!
I'm home from work today, and I'm determined to get it out. Determined. I want to show T that I can get this right. Maybe part of me is comparing this screw up to my Mary Kay failure, but for once, just once, I want to do something right.
Out damn spot, out.