Eggshells would have been doomed a few weeks ago if I had to walk on them.
My feet were heavy, weighted down by leaden thoughts that kept me preoccupied every step I took.
That week, about the middle of July, was one of those stretches of time I wished had just passed already, even when it had barely taken its first few breaths.
A puzzling fallout with someone I had long thought the world of. Job cuts at work. The loss of a cornerstone to my freelance work. Seeing talented people lose their jobs. The resulting tension at the office and elsewhere. The anxiety created by the uncertainty ahead.
And of course Mother Nature just added to this pile-on with an overbearing heat that felt like I was the lead singer of an opening act at a summer concert and some hooligan whipped a can of Bud at my chest. It could leave a person winded during those first breaths outside of the climate-controlled comfort of the great indoors.
The universe felt off-kilter.