Unsettled Luck

Tightrope Humming power in the wind today, a great deal of unsettled, floating energy. The shift gathers pace, even afternoon heat stopping at the edge of the shade and turning brisk. There’s no rain on the wind just yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

This morning I stumbled in the kitchen and almost poured heavy cream into the espresso machine’s filter holder, tripped twice over Miss B, rescued two books from the Jaws of Trundles, and spilled a bunch of hair powder on myself. All this was before coffee, but caffeination didn’t seem to help, because I almost fell out of my chair twice after I had my mug. Not only that, but I banged my shoulder into a doorway (don’t ask) and nearly jabbed myself in the eye with a toothbrush.

Grace and dignity, yo.

Fortunately, the morning’s run (which I was dreading) went without incident, even though Miss B longed, I tell you, looooonged to make the acquaintance of a dog or two left unleashed by their idiot owners. Generally if I stay calm during the entire interaction it all ends well, but I have to say I have a bit of longing myself, centered around yelling “IT IS A LEASH LAW, NOT A LEASH SUGGESTION. DOGS DO NOT MAKE GOOD DECISIONS, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, CUT THIS SHIT OUT.”

The run seemed to shake out my remaining klutziness, and my luck has improved. Not only did I not have to wait at the petrol station to fill my tank, but the total ended up being a round dollar figure without any help from me. Which is extremely tidy and pleasing. And my after-lunch coffee does not seem to be making me incredibly hungry.

So there’s some Prince on the speakers, a couple projects open that need serious wordcount, and the cedars in the backyard are smiling sleepily in the sun. It’s the little things.