The force [F = Ma, or, Force = Mass x acceleration] of taking (a) a plate of food (m) off a high counter will cause gravy to fly with glee in a fan-shaped pattern and splatter your clothes, ergo:
Being blindsided hard (F) by even a slow-closing lift door can cause you to stagger (a) and thus displace your innards and your ribs (m), or so it feels like for about five seconds.
Being cracked in the sternum by the bony elbow of your equally bony, tall counter nurse can feel like a kick from a really skinny mule. Especially after collision with abovementioned lift door.
I didn't even know you could get a paper cut from new dollar bills.
Light really does reflect on skin.
Directional spotlights, recessed ones too, really do cast triangular shadows. Even in broad daylight, ergo:
The day gets a trifle surreal when you're trotting back to your clinic counter bearing leftover pizza from a doctors' meeting. In a brown envelope. (Ok, fine, there weren't any available containers or plastic bags in there. It is still surreal, yes.)
I am currently engaged in taking apart a thirty-six dollar skirt and turning it into a layered samurai-style outfit for a national awards ceremony I'm helping with on Sunday. Cloud Strife style overskirt, Issey Miyake style weird folded jacket. I have an ENTIRE wardrobe of suitable stuff for the occasion. Why am I doing this? BECAUSE I'M INSANE. I think. Yeah.
...Ok. So today got just a liiiiiiiiiittle surreal. Mostly. It was probably a bad idea to walk 3 miles home in the muggy heat too.
So much disproving the idea that a certain life could be a movie script. Right?
*looks at above list* I don't think I NEED to answer that question, not after this...