A pastor friend of my husband's called a minute ago. It should have been a simple phone call...he was just checking to make sure an email he sent had been received.
As I picked up the phone, I realized that the pen I had been making a list with had leaked black ink all over my hand. Which I had scratched my eye with. And wiped my nose. And evidently touched my ear at some point.
Yes, so get the whole mental picture in your mind. I'm somehow trying to check my husband's email, typing with one hand. Trying to clean off my face with a wet washcloth in the other, so as not to get ink on the phone. Wondering why Jonathan's password doesn't work. Having a telemarketer call in on the other line. Wondering for the thirty-eleventh time why our phone has this weird series of obnoxious sounds to let you know there's a call on the other line, instead of a nice short beep like our old one had. Realizing that Jonathan's password wasn't working because I had jabbed the caps lock key while trying to juggle all this. Verifying that the email was received. Trying to make small talk while looking in the mirror to see exactly how much ink was in my ear. Just knowing that this man thought I must be the flakiest woman on earth.
It did cross my mind to explain to him the situation, but I didn't think it would help my case any.