All that's missing is a pickup truck, a cowboy hat and some boots

I should've known it was going to be a bad day when I woke up late. On a Monday. With a headache.

I should've called in sick when I tried on shirts and every single on had bad static cling. I should've crawled back into bed when I put on my shoes, stood up in the dining room and promptly stepped in a pile of dog "mess" that was obviously not fresh. I should've punched myself when I realized what I'd stepped in ... two minutes later, after walking all over the living room and dining room.

Plus, it's Monday.

Nothing, so it seems, got done today at work. I'm busy. It's a holiday week. Guests just left, and more are coming. Don't get me wrong - that's good news. But it just adds to the mounting evidence of my life being the perfect country western song. Or so someone suggested to me today earlier.

Well, I'm not sure which country song "I almost watched my dining room go up in flames" is in, but I'm guessing I may be the first to actually put the dog crap and the fire in the same song.

We were given these really pretty votive candleholders this weekend, and I put candles in them. I turned my back and did dishes in the other room, and what to my wondering eyes should appear was this glowing orange ball to my left.

I gasped, saw the foot-high flames, and ran to see the tablecloth burn (which, I'll have you know, was not underneath the candles, but "safely" pushed to the side) -- along with my table. Apparently the flame burnt through one of the holes you see here, and spread to the table, then the tablecloth.

I was, because I'm this stupid, concerned about the police scanner call when I grabbed the table cloth and beat the fire with it, then grabbed the vase of flowers and dumped water all over it. The police scanner. Seriously.

Dave had just left for work; I called him and asked him come back. "Hi, it's me. Just wondering if you wanted to survey the damage of the fire. Oh, yeah by the way, there was a fire." Or, maybe it was more "COME BACK PLEASE."

Which made him late for work. Which made me feel bad. Which made me realize that "WOW this would make an awesome blog." Which leads me to believe that my next step, upon finishing this blog post, will be to hope for a deep coma of some sort that would last until 2026, or else carefully walk to the bed and go to sleep. At 8 p.m.

(Photo: Yes, these are the candles that set fire to my table. Yikes.)