(no subject)

Today my co-ordination is spectacular. I open a cupboard and take out, say, the flour, and paper plates and plastic spoons tumble over me. I cut an onion and bleed. I wish I knew why this happens from time to time, but the result is always the same: one room is a mess. Today that room is the kitchen. If I try to clean it, I shall shatter dishes and flood the floor. Tomorrow, then, is for cleaning. This afternoon is for soothing nerves and working on my novel.

The worst of the cooking is thankfully done.