One time this happened...

Freshly shaved, my smooth face catches the fluorescent glare as I stand in front of my fridge, frozen in indecision. I've been eating leftovers for three days straight, yet still manage to stare blankly at the remnants of last Tuesday's pizza, wondering if it's too soon to rewrap it in the original box.

I fumbled into my ex's apartment building, still clutching the takeout container from the ill-conceived date the night before. I stood there in the vestibule, trying to summon the courage to buzz myself out.

I tripped on the bus steps and face-planted in front of a group of giggling school kids. On my way to work.

The smell of stale coffee clings to my jacket like an unwelcome cousin at the high school reunion. I fumble for a spare pack, trying not to spill crumbs from my morning donut on the crowded office elevator.

I was washing my hands when I accidentally triggered the sink next to me. Then another.

A guy across the street lifted his arm and waved. I enthusiastically waved back.