"Everything I touch gets ruined."
On the flip side, decay and destruction.
Last night, I spilled water on my keyboard, and now my laptop refuses to chirp happily and blink to life.
The transplanting is necessary because my tomato plants are yellow and stunted.
Two nights ago, I dropped our blender. It too died.
The batch of sourdough on the counter smells slightly alcoholic.
And I even threw my newly-finished, beautiful sweater into the wash (on gentle), and shrunk it too small to put on.
If I have to buy a new laptop, I will not be able to afford Ethiopia. I am ashamed to say that I am living paycheque-to-paycheque as it is. (Though, as of the last one, my debts are basically paid off.)
I am afraid to touch anything. I am hopping on my bike for a cappuccino, and taking my journal.