i can't help but feel like i've been walking around with tp trailing from my shoe heels or a kick-me sign posted on my back or sucker written with a black sharpie across my forehead...
it's all the little things, pixie-like mischief that's got me wound-up like a jack-in-the-box, i've been on the verge of blowing my top. the snow on the sidewalk slipping into my shoes, the light rain-fall when i'm wearing a mini skirt, a run in my tights down my left leg, the little floating spoiled milk icebergs laughing in my coffee cup...the wait on a long line at the local rite-aid only to be told they didn't call the script in, getting to work late and finding the copier jammed. my garbage still filled to the brim, issues mysteriously missing from the top of my desk, getting "specified server unknown" in the middle of work, finding a hair resting quietly on my lettuce leaf...
i think i've been hexed.
can i borrow your magik bag?