(I am clearly doomed to my role as Fortune's lab rat today, as Kinja did not let me share this post. Here goes, again.)
My brother, for reasons too numerous to list here, has often been referred to as Fortune's Darling. I, on the other hand, frequently play the role of Fortune's lab rat. Today is one of those days. I know it's small stuff. But I admit, I sweat it.
I spent last evening with my BFF, who had had a fraught day due to work issues and marking the sad anniversary of her mother's death, so we went out for dinner and a few beers and I was there to provide kleenex and moral support. At the end of the evening we got on the subway, parted ways at Bloor station, and,just as I was waving goodbye the woman who had been sitting next to my BFF held up, with a face of horror, BFF's purse which she had left behind. I gasped "Oh thank you! I'll get it to her!" grabbed the purse, scrambled to my feet, and promptly tripped over them, effecting a full faceplant right there on the subway floor. I must have made quite a thud as I could hear people saying "OMG, are you all right?" but all I could focus on was getting out of the car before the doors closed - which I did, I have no idea how, and chased down BFF before she got on her connecting train. The colour drained out of her face when she saw me (at this point bruised and dusty) holding up the purse she hadn't yet realized she was missing. So, purse restored to owner, everything more or less OK, except for some badly bruised knees on my part. But I got home late and the Fusspot was, not unreasonably, pissed at me. I feed him, walk him, and throw myself into bed. The alarm goes off this morning and I have two knees like cauliflowers, a still testy dog, and the dawning realization that the black bean chili I lovingly prepared Sun and had for lunch yesterday might have supplied more fibre than my body could cope with at that precise moment ... so much of the morning was spent in the bathroom. I finally was able to leave the bathroom long enough to take the Fusspot out and, today of all days, he decided to live up to his name and was uncivil to the terrier cross who lives in the building next door. The terrier cross is a friendly dog but large and bouncy and frequently gets all up in Fusspot's grill, and this morning he wasn't having any of it. So I wind up dragging a vociferous Fusspot up the stairs and back into the building while the other dogs out being walked get into it just for the hell of it. I don't know how I got my bus. Once I got to work I stood staring blankly in the middle of the workroom because I couldn't even remember if I had brushed my teeth before I left the house. And I'm still sick with this cold; the entire office is sick with the same cold. It's like working in a sanatorium with all the coughing. Now I don't want to leave the workroom for fear of more random annoyances being flung at me. I JUST WANT MY NOSE TO STOP RUNNING AND FOR SPRING TO ARRIVE, DAMMIT.