Discombobulated Goose Eggs

It's probably only a duck egg, thanks to the ice pack. On my forearm, of all places. There would be another one on my knee if it weren't for the lack of sufficient soft tissue. Although I will no doubt have a lovely array of colored bruises on at least three limbs soon enough. (They will match nicely with the ones previously set in place by Caramel, who has yet to master the concept that my body is not made of the same material as the bed.) (Who needs tattoos?)

I have noticed a certain phenomenon when I take a spill. You know how they say that most of our brain processes are so fast we are not consciously aware of them? (Well I'm sure that someone has said that, somewhere.) When my brain realizes that a nose dive is inevitable, my consciousness seems to go into slo-mo. Before the fall gets underway, I am aware of my eyes scanning the target area, my brain recognizing any danger points, my brain then directing my hands/arms what to aim for & my skull/face what to avoid, and then my body getting the all clear to relax (mostly) and go with the flow. All this in what, a second? Fascinating stuff.

I'm hoping that incident was the last of a very discombobulated couple of weeks. Funky sleep patterns. Getting the flu. Fighting off the flu. (Yes, the cells of my immune system wear super suits...why do you ask?) Bringing home Jackson's ashes. Working my first day at The Probable Job. C-pap machine acting up. Cleaning up after 5 puppies (4 of which were not yet house trained) who developed The Explosive Diarrhea of Too Sudden of a Food Change. Administering a couple of anesthesia drugs to a friend's dog in the wrong order (don't worry absolutely no adverse effects to anything other than my ego). Losing my little date planner book thingy. Cleaning up after Peter and his own personal version of gastroenteritis. Proudly leaving for my therapy appointment on time, getting 15 minutes late because I-5 was backed up wayyyyyy north of Seattle, not being able to call said therapist because I forgot my cell phone on the end table, and arriving only to discover that the appointment had been scheduled for 10:15 not 10:45 & it was now after 11:00. Frack-a-doodle-doo.

So here's hoping that the current discombobulation as come to an end. I think I'll pull an Opus and find me a dandelion patch.