Hot Mess?

Every once in a while, I find myself doing alright...getting things done, looking fabulous, etc. It's usually during one of these fleeting moments that I choose to proclaim to the world that I, in fact, have nothing together.

There was the time I spilled Coke in my lap just before getting off a plane, then having to walk through the airport and wait for my ride with a wet crotch. Then there was the time I scored a lead roll in a girls' camp skit and somehow managed to flash the church leaders right in the middle of it.

This afternoon we had a dinner immediately following our church meetings. I was asked to bring a lasagna. I got up this morning, put the lasagna in the oven (since it needed to bake for a few hours), and managed to time it just right. I was showered and ready for church with a few minutes to spare on the timer. I carefully situated the casserole in my car so it wouldn't slide around. Off to the church I went!

In my four inch heels, I grabbed my purse, my notebook, my scripture case, and still managed to balance the lasagna tray on my fingertips. When I reached the door of the chapel, nobody was close enough to get the door. I noticed I had a free left pinkie. Why couldn't I open it myself? I'd managed everything else so beautifully. I realized that there was a good reason not to try it as my lasagna landed (ride side up, luckily) on the sidewalk. In the panic that followed, I hurriedly trip to get what hadn't splattered back in the pan, I burned my hand. Of course.

A few good friends cleaned up the cheese glob on the sidewalk as I iced my hand in the kitchen and tried to make what was left look somewhat edible.

Was this a tragic event? No. Simply a reinforcement of the fact that I am a mess.