I should probably live in a bubble.

To say that I'm clumsy does not really do justice to that which I am capable. I really don't understand how I manage to do the things I do, but some how I do. Today has not started out really well, and you will note its not even 2pm. I did get out of bed around 8:30 though, so I've had more of a day than I normally would have had by now. Now I make some coffee, or some espresso type drinks, whatever you want to call it. This was clearly my first mistake. See I really wanted Starbucks, but in an effort to not spend as much money I've been making my coffee at home instead of getting starbucks. It has been a struggle, but most days I make it ok. Today was clearly not one of those days.
I made up my morning coffee, then sat down to blog a little. Now it is the case that I like the cup of coffee to sit on the arm of my couch, so that I don't have to get reaching to the coffee table for my coffee. I know B has told me countless times that it makes her nervous when I do such things and that I shouldn't do it. She is more then well aware of my accident prone nature. Just ask her about stemless wine glasses. Needless to say, as I was typing some how the cup magically decided to jump into my lap disbursing itself all over the couch and my shirt in the process. Oh well I though, should be easier to clean up than the two glasses of wine I split a week ago. (yes I should of learned but clearly I'm slow).
I finish typing away. Take a shower, and make myself another cup of coffee since I really didn't get to drink any of the first cup. Then I sit down to write some more this time about my sister. I get about one line in and kicked over the cup of coffee which this time was on my coffee table. See clearly it matters not where to cut sits. I have a slate coffee table, so of course to clean it up I have to take the 20 pieces of slate out and clean each one. Which is awesome because as you've read I love to clean.
I also walked into the side of said table this morning for like the nine millionth time, leaving yet another lovely bruise on my leg to match the six others I have. I know I exaggerate most of the time, but this time I'm not. I do have that many bruises mostly on my right leg, and I have no idea how I got most of them. Though one large pretty one was also from walking into said table.
So clearly the moral of the story is that my furniture is revolting against me. I know your thinking they aren't really alive, but I assure you they are after all I've seen toy story. I just don't think my stuff loves me as much as they loved Andy.