Apartment Bull

Today I and the universe were not in-sync. Everything I touched either broke or seemed to leap from my hands. Hobbling around on crutches was most likely the main culprit of my misfortunes, but something else lurked in the air. Usually quite stable while I shower, my crutches fell as soon as I awkwardly stood up in the tub, my ceramic trinket bowl crashing to the ground with them. The soap dove to the drain numerous times. I cursed at the shrinking white oval. Upon entering my bedroom, the small trash can by my bedside, placed there for convenience during my recovery, landed on its side, popcorn kernels dissipating on the carpet. Time to sit down. The next 10 minutes were spent clipping and filing my long fingernails to a gentler length. Thank you, Trader Darwin, for your Women's Formula supplement. I simply cannot keep up with my nails these days. My stomach growled at me for only feeding it a banana that morning, so back on my right foot and crutches I went, straight to the kitchen. It was here where I unwittingly knocked over or dropped just about everything I reached for, struggling to grasp the strainer on the top shelf, struggling to do just about anything. It's been two weeks since I broke my foot; never have I experienced such a high level of helplessness and frustration. After a well-deserved Italian brunch, I retreated to my couch, hoping for some sort of synchronization to occur. Perhaps it was the universe's way of forcing me to sit down and focus on the day's goals. Perhaps it's all just coincidence, and I should think nothing more of it. Perhaps we all need a little imbalance some days, just to keep us in check.