Last week was a busy one.

Between some coaching duties, work, personal activities and family events there were few moments to spare.

Blame it on fatigue, or simply clutziness, but it was also a week of mess-ups for myself.

Monday went off without a hitch, but then the 'fatigue' (clumsiness) caught up with me.

Tuesday I tried to push myself from table to table at work on my roller chair and instead ended up face first on the ground.

Wednesday I was doing some pre-layout work, moved (apparently all too quickly) and accidentally let one rip with my lady-like co-worker nearby.

And then Thursday, as I was walking up the stairs to my apartment room, part of my body decided it instead would rather remain at the bottom of the stairs (I tripped forwards then somehow rolled down a half-dozen stairs backwards).

But it was Saturday's mishap that took the cake as, after coaching outdoors all day and getting only a few hours sleep the night prior, I was extremely tired.

I went home, stripped down to the nude to hop in the shower but decided I was hungry enough I would cook a pizza pop for myself (there are already some men grimacing in fear of what happened next).

I then sat down on the couch with the television on, pizza pop plate in hand, and proceeded to doze off after taking one bite.

Needless to say, moments later I was awoken in pain (screaming aloud) after the pizza pop slid off my plate and, sauce and cheese contents oozing out, found a landing spot on my crotchal area (brings a new meaning to the term 'hot pocket').

The kicker - this was my last pizza pop in the freezer and I had a mighty craving.

So, even in my barely awoken stupor I realized the need to preserve the meal and when I jumped up in pain grabbed the pizza pop midair to put back on my plate.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten that the whole issue arose from the pizza pop being too warm and I once again yelped in pain, this time dropping the pizza pop on the floor.

I quickly scooped it up with the plate, placed it on the counter, and then raced to the shower to cool down the needed areas (I won't point the specific area out as I have been lambasted in the past for being too specific about geometrics and angles in the midsection).

Anyways, after all was said and done, I emerged from the shower, healed and hungry and, as I pointed out before, living in a bachelor suite with one half-eaten pizza pop and a mad craving; I had no choice.

So I brushed off my meal and threw the pizza pop back in the microwave (I figure the heat will kill off any of those extra germs), turned the time to 45 seconds, removed the plate and enjoyed what will undoubtedly (or at least hopefully) be my most painful meal ever.

So I guess there are three morals to the house.

The first one: always have more than one pizza pop in the story.

Second: never fall asleep with hot food in hand...especially while in the nude.

Third: no matter how bad of a mishap you suffer each week, take solace in knowing I've likely screwed up something even worse than you have.

Trivia:

Last week's word was: conventions.

This week's unscrambler = niotnesaterp.

And last week's movie quote "You're gonna need a bigger boat" is from Jaws.

Here's an easier one for you, but you have to be able to name the actor, the movie, and what was happening when he said it: "Freedom!".

Anyways, keep a smile on your face for the week and I'll do the same.