You open the fridge and see your family is out of milk!
Then you have your dad make coffee, because he is making some anyway so he might as well throw in another spoonful of grounds for you.
Then you get dressed, hurriedly because you want to eat breakfast, and that means going through McDonald's drive thru.
Then you drink some of your coffee, put on makeup, and drink some more.
Then you realize you feel weak at the knees and a little sick, so you take some Pepto because you think coffee + empty stomach = your symptoms.
And the second you swallow the pills, you know it's too late.
Then you go into the bathroom and throw up your coffee, and you feel much better, as you must have been allergic to the "flavor" they put in with the grounds. No other reason why you'd get sick.
So you finish your hair and get in the car.
Then you drive to work.
Then you pull into McDonald's, where you see the semi bringing supplies to feed all the hungry customers has parked in the drive thru lane, making the lane you use to find a parking space or leave the restaurant merge with the line for the drive through, backing it out onto the street...somewhat. And because Wabash has seen fit to redesign their city streets, this means there is a traffic jam forming. To make matters worse, the semi can't get out--he's surrounded by the drive thru line.
Then you wait for fifteen minutes, the time you had allotted yourself to eat.
Then you park and go inside, just to escape the line, and because one of the ladies who works breakfasts brings her kids into the library, and she knows how you like your bacon egg and cheese muffin--real bacon, not the fake-ham sort.
Then you order your sandwich and your two milk jugs, because there is one swallow in each and you'd like to actually wash down your sandwich.
Then you hold your breath.
Then you eat the sandwich, and are pleasantly surprised that it stays where it belongs, although hiccups develop.
Then you regret working in a library, where your full-body hiccups complete with loud involuntary "hic" sound can be clearly heard throughout the building, rendering you a cartoon character in the eyes of all that know and work with you.
Then you drink your milk, and unlock doors. The library is open.
Maybe it's the sound of our unbalanced patron's hysterical sobs, or maybe it's just the whir of disease-ridden bread maker coming from our program room, but I have a feeling the day isn't finished with surprises. I'm just hoping to be finished with the digestive ones.