It's that feeling you get when you know that it's too late to do anything about it. You know, like when you're being extremely careful to not strip the nut, then you strip it anyway?

Or that feeling you get when you hit your wife's car with yours? Not tragic but still something you'd rather not face the ramifications of.

Saturday morning is generally the same routine at my house. Get laundry spinning, fill a sink with dishwater and knock a few items off of my chores list. So, I'm rinsing out the coffee pot and barely tapped it on the sink and now I've got a sizeable hole in the container that supplies me with hope every morning at 3 a.m.

Not a huge loss though because I still have the coffee pot that I bought so my dad could have his decaf when he visited. But still frustrating.

I must need a maid.

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