Five minutes ago, maybe a bit before, I moved my right hand too rapidly in an attempt to pick up my Manchester Mocha, resulting in the toppling over of my coffee cup. The contents shot out, spraying all over the table and floor, narrowly missing my knitting.
It also missed my laptop entirely, although my power cord (not attached to a power source or the computer at the time) was drenched. I perceive no damage.
I then had the terror-filled moment of: MUST CONTROL MESS--MUST PREVENT SPREAD!
Mercifully, the man Jen and I admire as the Ideal Father-Figure had just walked into the shop.
He got me a towel, made sure my computer was okay, and made me feel better. See, Jen? Good guy. We called it. We both knew.
I scrubbed the floor, I scrubbed the table, and I scrubbed my power cord. Now it seems dry and non-sticky, meaning that I fixed my own mess, and the poor overworked girl at the counter didn't need to come and rescue me.
I also provided the rest of the shop with entertainment. They all came and asked me about my computer, condoled with me, and were just plain friendly. All it took was the first man breaking the ice. He is an awesome guy.
You can see him at the far right of the frame in this picture, taken Valentine's Day at the concert held here. He is the older gentleman behind the disembodied hands.
This experience taught me two important things: always get a cup with a lid when working on your computer, and spillage happens, there is no need for guilt or freaking out unless something irreparable is damaged, like a laptop you can't backup or afford to replace.
I am now taking deep breaths and letting the adrenaline (more powerful than the three shots of espresso in my coffee that were reduced to one in the spill could ever be) wear off at its natural pace.
I can't take myself anywhere.