Coffee and Accidents

Two weeks ago, this morning,
I went over the handle bars of my bike.
I was precariously gripping a cup of iced coffee, and riding too fast.

It was really a combination of factors though. My lack of sleep, the lack of brakes on my bike, which led
to a spectacular accident.
The kind that if you see it from the outside, you laugh and then feel bad and laugh again.

Afterward, I lay on the ground for awhile, checking my limbs for breaks and blood.
I some how got away with only road rash, scratches and a bruised ego.

This morning, however, was different. In finding the fault of my accident in my cup of coffee, leading to a general loss of control and therefore, being the root cause behind it all, I packed coffee in a thermos this morning.
And as I went to pour my first cup, which still was hot enough to cook pork in, the lid on the thermos failed, showering my left hand in scalding, thick black Brazilian coffee.

My left hand is now bandaged, with 1st degree burns, which I stopped from moving deeper.
They wanted to go to my bone, the way I imagine touching lava would be. No flesh left, just bleached bones in
molten earth.

Besides these early morning follies, my first days of work have been good. The students are bright eyed and burning to learn my trade.
But I need to find away to stem this tide of dawn patrol accidents.

I have decided that the gods don't want me to bring coffee to work anymore. This is a disappointing setback.