The start of this past week was warm in Birmingham, and I got used to planning my days around sitting outside. I worked in the sun, I read in the sun, I listened to music in the sun. My concentration was sharp, my head was clear. My face got red, my legs got brown—it was like a little holiday. And what was the reason? I am pretty sure it was my lessened anxiety. I was on a roll. So it had to end, right?

Thursday morning I woke up early, ate my breakfast slowly, and promised productivity to the day. In breaks between work, I wandered the garden, noticing that so much time outside had allowed me to determine what time of day it was based on where the light hit the ground. That felt lovely. I’d rather have integral knowledge about the rotation of the Earth than most other things. I was thinking about writing this very diary. There was something unknown in the atmosphere that I decided to ignore. It was unreasonably quiet, and it felt like something was going to crack.

It turned out to be my toe. As I was taking my laptop downstairs to do yet MORE work, I dropped it on my foot. A few days later, my big toe is still swollen and painful and starting to bruise.

This particular shade of blue is the new must-have colour.

Maybe that was the universe telling me to be careful. Then I got my fucking PERIOD. A week early! Now, instead of the sensation of sun on my skin, I feel PAIN. And here I thought I was doing well: controlling my mood, being productive, going outside, reading lots. And stuff beyond my control had to go and fuck it up. I hate that. Usually I have to SELF-sabotage in order to avoid life activities. Damn you, universe!

I like to think that when things like this happen, you can get something out of it. Make the most of it, let’s say. Well, I have been trying, and I can’t. Worryingly, it also feeds into my fear that happiness, or feeling good, can’t last very long. Something has to come along and stop it. For three days, I’ve been solely on my bum with my leg propped up, getting bored and doing nothing. I tortured myself with thoughts of having kept a tighter grip on my laptop or just moving my feet out of the way. I always ask: why? Why did events take this particular order? I know questioning things like this is futile.

I suppose my life lesson this week is: shit happens. ♦