I just used the men’s room. Oops! (Yes, I got walked in on. No, I didn’t notice a single urinal.)

And, earlier this week, I left a bookstore with my hands full. I had a cake boxed up for a party, and a bag dangling from the fingers holding it, a glass bottle of Coke in my other hand. I needed the caffeine and the cold; I was jet-lagged and we were in the middle of a heat wave.

So I got to my car and had to get the key out of my front jeans pocket. There was no place to put anything down, and I figured I could just slide it out.

I poured that bottle of Coke right into my pocket.

That’s how spacey and hyper and distracted I am.

And I laughed about it immediately. Despite being a mental case right about now, I’m having a great time.

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