Today sits on my palate like milk that has just passed its expiration date. It's the kind of day where the mail can only bring bad news, important things get misplaced or forgotten, and simple conversations turn into wars of attrition. It's the kind of day where all I want is to throw my hands up in the air and give up. I find some solace in the fact that it is not just me being affected by the strangeness of the air today. Around me in the coffee shop, papers cascade out of bags and off of tables, scattering across the floor, coffees spill across papers and books, and laptop batteries die before an outlet can be located. I try to pinpoint the reason for all of this, a lack of sleep, or too much sleep, a missed meal, or an overindulgence in junk food. I keep trying to find a means to justify the ends, because at least then I could focus my dissatisfaction, annoyance, and frustration. But no matter how long I search, I can find no reason aside from the capriciousness of the universe, which, it turns out, is a rather unsatisfactory explanation.