Oh fuuuu—–ddddgggge. Only I didn’t say fudge. I said the word.

So, it’s one of those days. You know those days, those days when you struggle out of bed, because for some reason you just don’t want to get up. Then you do get up and you regret it immediately. Because it seems like the universe is conspiring against you.

We had to run a few errands this morning and we always like to run our errands before Jesus rises to avoid the crowds. Well, it was exactly 9:16 when I looked at the clock in the car and proclaimed, “It’s only 9:16!” A relatively short sentence, but it nicely encompasses both the disbelief that so many things could go wrong in less than two hours and the fear that you have so much day left in which to fall off a balcony, get stuck in a woodchipper or be in the middle of a glass building when a freak hurricane blows ashore.

Ah, so many possibilities. So little insurance.