Perhaps I should have guessed the stars are misaligned when the torrential rain began and things started to go awry. It didn’t strike as such a grave issue even when I nearly got run over by a bike yesterday. I was happily ambling across the road to lunch, when an idiot rode his bike straight into me. And I gallantly stopped him, with my bare hands. Erm, yes, evidently I possess SuperWoman-like tendencies even I didn’t know I had. It was only when the bike actually came to a halt about 6 inches away from my body, simply because I stretched my hands out and grabbed his bike as he slammed his brakes, did I understand the gravity of what had just been averted. But no, I forgot about the pretty soon after I had eaten and ambled back to finish my day at work.
Later in the evening, I burned myself while cooking dinner. And I blame it all on the frikkin extra large gobi. The giant vegetable, despite being chopped into smaller pieces, threw my judgement out of whack. No sooner had I put the florets in the skillet I usually cook sabji in, did they develop life of their own, and bounced out of the pan, right on to my forearm, and stayed there for a good long while until I reacted. Violently. And replaced the displaced florets back into the pan with the finesse and precision of a martial arts master.
But it wasn’t until this morning, when my efforts to wake up extra early, get ready on time and make it to work before the morning meeting began, were thoroughly foiled by a massive puddle that concealed a glossy layer of moss, that decided to land exactly in my path, did I realise just how horribly misaligned my stars are this week. It seems I’m walking around with a cloud of bad juju floating right above my head.
There I was, gingerly making it to the meeting on time, trying to reach cover before the rain completely drenched me, in my mind thinking I’m all in control. When one false move, placing my foot a few inches too close to the puddle sent me flying. Arms flailing, feet giving way and knees buckling beneath me, it felt like an eternity has passed before my arse landed smack in the middle of the puddle. And the whole pan of time felt like time was bending and stretching infinitely, in a skewed, slowed down fashion.
What do I make of the fact that, through it all, the only thought in my head was “don’t drop your phone”. So when it was over, my knee felt like jell-o, a high pitched screech ran in my ear, butt wet and most definitely mossy, I actually had my left hand, phone clasped tightly, held up in the air.
Yeah, you got it. I saved my phone. But sacrificed my arse. So it seems I have this talent. Of pulling out inordinately swift reflexes and sleight limbs. Apparently, there is a SuperWoman hidden not so deep within me. Or at least, that’s what someone is trying to prove.
I just want to put it out there:
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m not to be mistaken for a bird
I’m not to be mistaken for a plane
It’s not easy to be me.
(At least, not this week)