As a consequence of moving so often, every now and then, in the millisecond between asleep and awake, there are times I can’t remember what city I’m in. If I’d gotten into Lloyd really late one night from Edmonton, it was sometimes really heartbreaking to remember where I actually was. Not the best way to start a day.
It happened again this morning. In that half-conscious millisecond, I thought I was in Calgary. I’m going home next week, and I’m really looking forward to it — I haven’t been home since May, for a variety of reasons — but I’m happy here too. No reason to wish I were in Calgary specifically.
But that’s kind of set the bar for my day. When I was making my coffee, I dropped the full mug because I didn’t have a good enough grip on it and my hands just, for lack of better term, gave up.
If that’s not enough: Continue reading