it's fine. IT'S FINE.

The bird survived! I drove across the island and got to my mother's house in the evening. The little bird was scared and struggling, but it calmed down when she picked it up, gently turned it over, and let it grab her pinky with its toes to see if the legs were broken. Both feet gripped her finger, and it could spread both wings on its own, so it doesn't need a splint for broken bones, although it's definitely injured. It accepted a bellyful of warm bird formula (very young bird, still had some rubber baby beak showing) and she put it under a heating pad to sleep the night. She texted to report that it woke up alive instead of dead, and had a big appetite, so that's promising.

I sunk all my good luck into that bird. It was after dinner time when I got home, so I found some sad salad in the fridge and ate it with the last three shrimp in the freezer. Did my fitness cult workout like a toddler being forced to put away blocks. The neighbor's son was blaring NSFW music to drown out Leif banging out Bach on the piano, and my nerves were fried. By the time I got out of the shower the duel had ended and everyone was settled down to their own activities, so I decided to get an hour of painting in to unwind before bed. Picked up my art stuff, went out the back door, slipped on a puddle, and fell down the concrete stairs.

When I came limping back in an hour later, Mike pointed at the mail pile. "Something came for you today." The something was an envelope from the post office, containing an apology letter and a torn scrap of cardboard that was the only surviving piece of the box of painting panels I had ordered a couple weeks ago. A sorting machine in Philadelphia ate the rest of it. 

But today is going to be a good day. I am going to throttle the goodness right out the day, goddamn it. 

Edited again to add: also I found my new teapot in the garbage because the cat threw it out of the cupboard and broke it.

edited because google still won't let me comment on my own posts: I'm fine, just busted my knees and elbows a bit. Probably helped that I was limbered up; one leg went flying out like Gumby all the way to the bottom of the stairs, the rest of me followed, and I went crashing down into pigeon pose on the wet patio.