I (eventually) learn.

"Uncanny," I said sharply as I lifted my laptop off the soaked pillow and stood up from the loveseat doused with coffee to mop up the droplets on my computer. I returned to my poor piece of furniture and pressed a towel to the puddles of coffee that remained. I shook my head a walked down the hall, pulling my shirt away from my tummy because in addition to being very wet, the cloth was growing cold.

"Hi," I greeted Friend and Prettiest Cat when I opened the door to my master bedroom. They blinked at me with identical expressions of sleepy exasperation. "I may have dumped a full cup of coffee all of myself just now. So I need new clothes."

I tugged on a new t-shirt to see Friend close her eyes and turn her head to rest again, still smiling over my problem. I turned to Prettiest Cat, the more sympathetic of the pair, and she allowed me to pet her for a few moments while I explained that while the table was in the same spot as always, I appeared to be missing it lately.

The other night, I walked to my favorite spot and prepared to enjoy a bit of molten chocolate cake. I put down a plastic cup (from the zoo!) on my table and blinked with surprise when it tipped, spilling 30-some ounces of water on the cushions I was planning to use for sitting instead of soaking.

"Well," I said while I placed my plate on a table and went to get towels, "that wasn't what I meant to do." But I mopped up the mess, abandoned the loveseat for the free end of the couch and had a soon-forgotten thought toward being more careful. But the same thing happened this morning. I had sipped at coffee and was returning my mug to the table so I could make paper revisions. But I underestimated the necessary distance and the table caught the corner of the mug, helpfully tipping it to splash warm liquid all over me. I smell coffee and cream even now (though the poor piece of furniture has dried).

It sometimes takes me a little while to grasp a concept, I suppose, which is why I coped with nervous tension this morning before deciding to do something about it.

"I'm going to mow the lawn," I announced to Friend when she shuffled down the hall from the master bedroom. She nodded, fending off lunges of frantic happiness from Chienne. The poor dog is cruelly separated from her most favoritest person in the whole wide world at night and she's overcome with joy when Friend finally emerges in the morning. Feeling rather proud of myself after neatly clipping the grass, I returned to the air conditioned coolness and finished editing my paper.

While I waited for the final proof to load, I called Adam from Industry and left a message on his voice mail, inquiring after the formal offer. I didn't hear back, but felt better having asked. I received my travel information and am able to more clearly picture the sequence of events for the interview trip. This somehow helps me be more eager and less stressed. I mapped out my route from the airport to the hotel. I've glanced through the schedule and downloaded papers I should read.

Then I napped, blissfully enjoying the easing of tension and snuggling into pillows for a couple lazy hours. I woke to begin packing and cleaning again, feeling strong enough to change a few more facets of my environment as I slowly put belongings into boxes and moved said boxes to the garage. I mowed the back yard at dusk and feel tired enough to sleep well again tonight.

The lesson isn't new - when stressed, be productive. It just takes me a little while to apply it sometimes. Until it's time to throw out this loveseat when I move, perhaps the scent of coffee will remind me.