Micro Aggression Monday

It started early this morning. The thoughts just up and creeped into my head as I attempted to calm my mind to sleep. An existential crisis the likes of which I haven't seen in some time. Ennui that just grabbed me around the heart and wouldn't let go.

So I did what I've been practicing. I focused on the mental image of a blank sheet of paper. I took a deep breath in, and with every slow exhale I let some of the morass go, until finally my paper was clean. Slow going, but it did get me to sleep.

Cramps woke me a few hours later, and I did the same thing. Focused. Breathed. Counted. Eventually I fell back to sleep.

At some point in the wee hours of the following morning I heard the soap holder suction cupped to my shower wall give way again, crashing its contents onto the tub with a resounding thump you can hear through out the house. I sighed and rolled over.

It was going to be that kind of day.

The soap holder fell twice more.
The contact paper I'd rigged to hold our particle board bathroom sink vanity together has begun to peel.
The tomato for my lunch is over ripe.
My socks are threadbare at the heel.
The cat is begging for tuna, even though her kidneys can't handle the protein.
I've managed to drop everything item I've tried to hold today at least once.
The container holding my salad is not as water tight as I'd like, and now the inside of my satchel smells of balsamic vinegar.

And I can't get my jaw to stop clenching.

I'm back to that place in undergrad where I view my days as To Dos and not To Wants.
Mother fucking blegh.