On exiting the coffee shop today, balancing my backpack, gym bag, headphones, and a small, steamy latte, I sort of knew something was going to bail. My body couldn't handle all that cargo. Sure enough, my latte tumbled right out of my hands, performing a dramatic 720+Kickflip+Shove-it+Benihana+Nosebone+McTwist before a spectacular wipeout against the inside of the café's front door. Another patron was about to enter the café and got to witness the entire flameout behind the safety of glass. I watched him watching it, which was an interesting out-of-body experience and judging by the expression on his face my latte accident was the most awesome thing he's ever seen. And it probably was.

I haven't had a head-turning spill like that in a long time and it was sort of nice to discover that the particular sadness it made me feel was really a really familiar constant in my life. It felt exactly like being a child, standing outdoors, and watching a helium balloon slip out of my hands. Shock, then longing, then loneliness. Then a little bit horny.