Bear with me. This is a true story, and it does have a point.
The first omen came when I stumbled out to the kitchen, first thing in the morning, and knocked over a flower vase. Scratch one dry towel.
After breakfast I headed upstairs, which is composed of a long room with a window on the east end and a balcony on the west. The morning sun shifts seasonally, and was now casting a blinding shaft of light on my computer. Accordingly I adjusted the curtain, and the stained glass articles in the window so that they could still be seen.
I headed out to water the plants on the balcony, calling for the cat to come munch on her potted greens, but she didn’t show. So, I watered the plants alone, shuttling water jugs in and out from the bathroom, where I filled one at the tap while using the next. Since there was no cat about, and I was thinking about bugs, birds, and heat coming in, I kind of slammed the balcony door. This caused one of the stained glass items in the window at the opposite end of the room to take a kamikaze dive for the floor.
So, I rushed downstairs for the vacuum, broom, and dust pan, explained to my wife what I was doing, and rushed with my load to the steps. There I was almost tripped by the black cat, who had decided it was just the right time to head upstairs. I shooed the cat away from the broken glass, used the broom and dustpan, plugged in the noisy vacuum and started working my way from east to west down the long room. When I got to the west end, I discovered that I had left a jug filling in the sink, and water was running all over the counter, down through the cabinet, and onto the floor. I rescued the stack of magazines, the kitty litter, etc. and yes, used up another dry towel.
About this time, my wife screams from downstairs that there was water dripping through the ceiling onto the bed. As I headed back to the stairs, the phone of course rang. The smartest thing I probably did today was ignore it.
Downstairs we had a wet quilt, blanket, sheet, pillow, and several more towels. I used another towel on the end of a broom to wipe the last of the water off the ceiling.
Now, my wife often reads me my horror-scope out of the newspaper, so I asked her to check it just to see what it said about this morning. For the record, it was apparently a 3-star day and there was not one word about broken glass or spilled water. Just sayin’.