It’s the coffee I spilled on my pants. In the first five minutes or so I was at work I spilled Sprite Zero on my desk and coffee on my pants. I went into the bathroom and was trying to clean up my pants leg with a wet paper towel—blotting and patting—and someone walked out of a stall and gave me a sympathetic look. I debated saying, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “just peed on my leg,” but I didn’t, even though I sort of wish I had. (wish I had said it. not wish I had peed on my leg. Sometime I’ll tell you about the Bike Riding Incident in Fourth Grade. I know whereof I speak.)