Sigh

So, I'm sitting at my desk marking papers, and I keep smelling the very distinct scent of rasberry jam. I look around the classroom. Nobody's left anything here. I look in front of me. No forgotten sandwich - nor can I recall ever packing one to bring with me.

I try to ignore it, but the sticky-sweet smell seems to be surrounding me. It smells delicious; I can feel my stomach rumbling and my mind rebelling against waiting for supper to eat. I look again. I don't see a thing! All that's left in my lunch is a lonely orange. So, given the conclusive evidence that I'm losing my mind, I continue to work.

An hour later, I decide to clear off my somewhat cluttered desk, and begin by moving that lunch bag. As I pick it up, I'm dismayed to discover it seems to be dripping. My first quick thought is - has the orange been crushed? No, indeed it has not. Instead, as I lift the wet object away, I notice my full but strawed juice box laying defeatedly on it's side, and it's rasberry juice liberally applied to my papers beneath it.

Not jam. Juice. 

Sigh.