Two Hits and a Near-Miss

Last night, the un-anchored nature of the shelves in my kitchen cabinet joined forces with the weight of my sweet potatoes to knock an unopened jar of tomato sauce to the floor - I cleaned it up, and thought I had done a pretty good job with the glass shards. So good that I didn't wear shoes in the kitchen this afternoon and managed to get a crumb of glass stuck in my foot. So I took it out and threw it away- easy - except that it then cut my left index finger - looong after I thought I had rid myself of it entirely. Then, not 10 minutes later, I went to retrieve a baking sheet of said sweet potatoes from the oven, using a folded over towel in lieu of the potholders I couldn't find, and promptly burned my right thumb. Then, because I still had all of my fingers, I decided to go running - not such a great move, since, instead of the cold and rain, it was now somewhat sunny (alternating with exceedingly menacing clouds), and very humid. And I, of course, was wearing my heaviest exercise pants - which felt like they weighed about 30 pounds. So I went to the gym, and somehow managed to either pick the treadmill that times itself out every two minutes or hit the pause or emergency stop button with my headphones cord - the sudden slowing was both startling and nearly enough to make me fall off of the machine all together. So I switched machines and things got better. When I got home, I still wasn't up to the task of facing my statistics midterm, so I decided to go shoe or, more aptly, zaatar-bread and tabouli shopping. On my way down my block, I passed a pair of old men arguing. One was waving his cane at the other as I passed, and just as I got to them, I heard this metal on metal clanging sound and looked down to see a hollow metal tube leaning against the railing of the building they were in front of -if I had been perhaps one second earlier, I surely would have blocked its trajectory as it flew from the inside of the raised cane across the sidewalk, and I dare say the both the potential physical and social aftermath would have been more . . . interesting? than my solitary minor calamities, but I'm pretty glad I didn't have to find out.