It was a tough tough week, for many reasons I won't go into, and sleeping through the morning, something I very rarely do, left me groggy and grumpy and not up to dealing with the few chores I could still get done before dark. I was tiptoeing around the edge of a very bad mood, tempted to say What the hell and just wallow in it. (Soundtrack: this brilliant performance by Johnny Cash from the last album released before his death, his honest ragged voice expressing levels of pain Trent Reznor could only hint at.)
Then my toilet clogged up. It was quite the mess, and running out in the rain to buy a new plunger, fixing the clog, and then cleaning up the bathroom and myself, somehow left me laughing at how self-indulgently whiny I'd been earlier. Nothing grounds you like raw sewage!
And having a working toilet again as I settle into my Saturday evening somehow makes me feel that other things may work themselves out as well, an optimism that has no basis in fact but feels more comfortable than this afternoon's angst.