Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk

So yeah, don't cry over spilled milk. But I say DO cry over SPOILED MILK.

This morning, I thumped down the stairs in my pre-coffee coma per usual. Make a pot of coffee large enough to accommodate all my roommates' caffeination needs. Per usual. I'm more frequently than not the first one up and I'm happy to do it. Of course.

I prepare my coffee with little care (I'm not awake as I have not had my coffee). I pour a cup about 3/4ths full. Fill to top with skim milk. There you go...

I curl up in a chair to read the Style section of the Washington Post and begin sipping my coffee. At this point in time, I barely have any sensory signals shooting off in my brain, until the beans have done their business. I might as well be a mannequin.

My two roommates come down the stairs. One goes over to the computer. The other gets coffee for them both and takes a mug over to her. "No milk?" the receiving roommate asks. "Are we out of milk? I thought I saw some?" "Well there is milk," the giving roommate replies. "But I'm pretty sure it's gone bad."

"Whhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat???!!!" I gasp incredulously. "The milk has gone baaaaaaaaaaad?" I stand up abruptly, march over to the refrigerator and pick up the milk to inspect it. Yes. It is bad. It is very very very bad. I go to dump the milk down the drain and my roommate says "Don't throw it out just yet." "Um, excuse me...." I say. "Why wouldn't we throw it out?" "Let's not throw it out until we've replaced it with a new one," is his reply.

Um. Okaaaaaaaaaaay. No. Okay, just no. (Which is not what I say, but it is what I'm thinking). But I do say....

"Um, how about we pour the milk down the drain when it goes bad and make a note to get some more, instead of leaving it in the fridge for our unsuspecting roommate to drink in the morning. How bout that?" (I'm more than a little peeved. My anger only increases as I see the white lumpy chunks of sour milk protrude from the plastic jug. I think I'm going to be sick.) "I really can't believe you would leave that in there for me to drink."

I pour out my mug filled with coffee and nasty ass milk. Put my mug in the dishwasher and then walk over to the pot to get a new cup and fresh coffee. I shake my head and mutter something like "ugh" and then sigh long and breathy and audible.

And then I'm asked the unthinkable: "So you''ll pick up some milk then on your way home from work?" my roommate asks hopefully.

(Really???????? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Reallly!!!!!!!!! F. M. L. Just fml).

Some days are just like this I guess. Some days....Hoping yours started off better and cheers (to unspoiled beverages),

T.