it's a hole-in-the-sock sort of day

My day started out behind. I extended the snooze just a little too long, fumbled the cats' food a bit necessitating some cleanup that cost me soem time, and even my hair seemed downright uncooperative. Nonetheless, I managed to mostly catch up by the time I started getting dressed.

But as I put on my black dress socks, I discovered a hole the size of Saskatchewan right smack in the middle of it. Not in the heel or toe, nor even along the top where I've put holes before from being a little too vigorous pulling them up. But right there, smack in the middle of my shin. So weird.

It was fortunate in a way, since it's in a spot that can't be seen. And anyway, I didn't have time to run upstairs and rummage for another pair (where I would've likely pulled out a pair of dark blue ones and then looked like a dork all day). But I sat there for a moment, contemplating whether it was a sign that the deck was stacked against me today and it might just be best to go back upstairs and crawl under the covers.

And that sock seems to be the metaphor for my day: everything looks fine, but underneath, something's a little bit off in a weird way. And even though I know no one else can see it, I know it's there, and it's just going to bug me all damn day until I can get home and dispose of it.

lunch, French bistro:

• pepperoni and smoked mozzarella in a sun dried tomato wrap
• steamed broccoli
• corn
• dried cherries