This is the reason to cry over spilled sugar.

I don't know how it happened, or how it was even possible, but I knocked over a jar of sugar.

It's EVERYWHERE, you guys. Today is kind of a science lesson for me, because I now know how far sugar can spread.

This just proves that I probably have a handicap.

A reflex type handicap. The kind where I'll have to have people reach up and get things for me to avoid this type of lethal destruction.

Seriously. I am still at odds with the whole situation. I find myself thinking HOW? REALLY, HOW? when I look at the mess. The mess that happens to still be there in all of its sugar glory, because informing you gorgeous people is more important than cleaning.

In order to help me understand the situation further, I am going to explain what happened, and if you're still reading this you're either insane or ridiculously cool.

I think you're ridiculously cool.

I was heating up a cup of tea in the microwave because I absolutely need to drink tea for my CREATIVE PROCESS. Because I like to sound like a SNOOTY AUTHOR.

THAT'S RIGHT.

Sorry.

Anyway, my microwave is in the air. Above the oven. It's suspended in midair above my oven.

No, I wish. It's attached to the cabinets above my oven but in a way it's suspended in midair too. I like to think it is.

And I was sitting on the counter smelling the jar of sugar because I really enjoy sugar, when I suddenly heard the microwave yelping its confirmation that my tea was, in fact, heated. I placed the jar of sugar carefully on the counter, near the edge, BAD MOVE, and brought down my tea from the magical wingardium leviosa induced microwave, not realizing that the cup would be SCALDING HOT LIKE FIRE.

I have another strange process, and it involves dancing around like a lunatic when I touch something hot. I ran to the counter on which I had placed the sugar and hastily threw down the cup as carefully as I could without spilling the lava like substance, and this is it, this is where my plan tragically crumbled.

My elbow.

Oh, my stupid, clumsy, careless elbow. The very same elbow that has caused me so many problems in my past. The same elbow that has injured my best friend's eye by mistake. The same elbow that has jabbed itself into a guy's stomach not by mistake. The same elbow that has, on more than one occasion, ran into a wall or an open door.

The elbow.

As I was shoving the cup as far away from myself as possible and trying to make a break toward the sink to rinse my fingers under chilly water (I can't say freezing water because our faucets are temperamental), my elbow swung and knocked over the jar of sugar.

And then there it was, cascading from the counter and onto the floor below like a white waterfall.

I honestly didn't know what to do. My first impulse was to cry because I knew this was going to involve a broom and I hate brooms. The only brooms that I like are the Harry Potter kind.

So instead, I plopped myself on that sugar dusted floor and just watched my life play out before my very eyes.

And then I heard a familiar song playing from the television in the living room, and realized Romeo + Juliet was on HBO.

Problem solved.

I'll go get the broom now.

Ag.