Spilled Milk

School has begun. With it has come loads of reading and a new work schedule. I am the cashier for the cafeteria once more. The good news is that it is not as boring as it used to be, nor as disgusting as the dish room, and it is a job. The bad news: I'm still working at the school cafeteria and I still have to wear that ridiculous uniform. Thankfully the shirt actually fits me and doesn't look like an oversized pillow case.
I was congratulating myself on the cleanliness of my job and the delight that it would be to have to grimace at the thought of whatever was on my shirt or in my hair, when, as I was refilling on of the crates of milk in the milk machine, I knocked the other crate and sent two boxes of soy milk flying. One hit my shoulder and spilled down my back and into my hair.
The next night I was extremely cautious when refilling the milk. However, I succeeded in splattering fat-free milk on my shirt. Needless to say, I have worked three nights and have managed to get three types of milk on my uniform.