Last Tuesday my socks didn’t match, which normally bothers me a lot, but last Tuesday it didn’t for some reason. Naturally the next day they matched, but the vague mathematical pleasure this usually gives me was gone. Not sure why. The only thing I can think of is that two nights earlier, I locked the cat in a room full of mirrors, and by morning I had seen a side of myself I shouldn’t have seen.
No harm no foul I say, because my cat’s pretty much okay now, and even has a new interest in my action figure collection. And yesterday when I locked myself out of the house during a freak hailstorm, it occurred to me while I was looking for my keys in a panic that things have a way of evening up on their own, or at least that’s what crossed my mind when I saw the Batmobile on the windowsill.