So last week I had a hair mishap before heading to the grocery. This week it was clothing. I actually remembered panties (yippee!) but I put on a favorite pink tank in the locker room only to find it was stained with a mystery substance. It's that stain that I know it's a stain but to others might appear that I'm just not capable of using a cup properly after thirty-odd years of practice. No, I don't know how it got there and I reserve the right to refuse that the idea that I do not, in fact, know how to use a cup after decades of practice is true.
Don't be jealous of my fabulous life.