The Bloody Doors Off

Today was designed to humble me. That’s how it felt.

The day started off great. A client I’d worked for last year on a sub-contract, who needed my skills as a Microsoft Office Specialist, called today. They’ve got two small jobs in the pipe; one will be due Friday.

I thought about what my doctor and I talked about.

Embracing the chaos.

So naturally I said yes.

And felt amazing over it. Being where I wanted to be. Busy. Productive.

The rest of the day ganged up on me. I’d forgotten to put on my belt. Random. Never happened before, or at least I’d notice it and grab it before heading out. Not today. Sometime during the day my pill box fell out of my pocket, and I’m out a half-dozen Metformin. I’d apparently fucked up a job I’d worked on last Saturday. There goes my streak.

The capper was coming home. Did you know a streetcar can’t go in reverse? Major fucking traffic fuck-up because a streetcar just ahead of mine ended up turning left instead of right (you’ve got to manually change the track). Waiting for a shuttle bus took 20 minutes (even though 1 sat in the southbound land for just as long, not moving).

By the time I got to Greenwood, I desperately wanted to take my frustrations out on an inanimate object.

Which I didn’t do, because that would be bad.

Even though it feels like life was kicking me in the head all day.