Bread

Sometimes you have those days where everything you do seems a little off kilter. Not that anything goes dramatically wrong, but nothing really goes right either. It was rainy and damp all day, so my joints felt stiff. Once at work, although I did lots of necessary things, I didn’t get anything done that I had thought I was going to do today. I walked home from work, realized I had to go shopping before I could eat dinner, walked over to the third floor of the parking garage where I usually park only to realize I had (for some obscure reason) driven my car to work this morning and then walked home. When I finally got home, I decided to bake bread. And even though the bread didn’t rise as much as it should have done, and stuck to the pan when I took it out, the very physical acts of mixing and kneading and then the smell of bread that now pervades the entire apartment restored some sense of balance to my life.