Last Tuesday did not follow in the footsteps of my recent 'positive Tuesday swing' - Lately my Tuesdays have been on the 'up' and my once most hated day of the week has become something to experience and not to dread from the moment I wake up.
However, Tuesday August 19th was a Tuesday from some other dimension.
It started off with a bit of apprehension as does any Tuesday. However, by the time I was ready to leave for work I was feeling pretty good. I was dressed all cute and was comfy in my Crocs. I left my house the way I do pretty much every day. I was even smiling and in a good mood.
However as I made my way down the little pathway towards the Central Bus Station, I came to the 2nd set of stairs and (although it wasn't wet) it was ridiculously slippery. My purse (which until then had been held together with safety pins) decided to go rogue. The pins all opened simultaneously and the bag plummeted to the ground (taking with it; both my phones, my I-pod, my camera, my snacks for the day - alright, maybe I HAD overloaded the bag a bit.) Anyway, as I felt it fall, I made the conscious decision to let it go. I knew that if I reached for it I would tumble down the stairs. Somehow, devoid of the weight on my left side I was unable to stabilize and balance myself and half a second later I found myself flat on my back sprawled across all 7 stairs. I then oozed down the stairs and crumpled into a ball at the base of the staircase.
As if to make this all seems just a bit more surreal, 6 little charedi kids, all under the age of 7 with absolutely no adult supervision, with the long curly peyos and those stupid little backpacks and their matching plaid shirts were congregated across the pathway from the stairs. As I blinked the world back into focus, there they were pointing and laughing and as if I had not been there they stupidly yelled, "Hey lady! You fell down!"
I then realized that I was sort of sitting on my left hand. I figured I had broken my fall with it. I checked out the damage, realized it was going to swell a bit and took off my rings and watch. This wasn't a moment too soon because as I stood up my hand and wrist swelled to 2 times their normal size. I then realized that my white shirt was all dirty, so I decided to go home, change and get some ice.
About 20 minutes later, wearing a clean shirt and a makeshift ice-pack holder, I decided to try to go to work again. I took my bus-card out of my wallet to avoid fumbling around one-handedly in my purse once I got to the bus and I left.
I walked out of the apartment with the card in my hand, held between my 2nd and 3rd fingers. I got into the elevator with the card. I got to the ground floor with the card. I walked through the entrance of the building with the card. I stepped out into the sunlight and took 2 steps forward when I realized that lo and behold, the card was gone. I retraced my steps, once, twice, three times. I checked in the elevator. I checked on the ground. I checked in the garbage can. I checked the hallway upstairs. I got annoyed. The card was no where to be found. I went back home. Again. I related the series of events to Z and he looked at me incredulously and in utter disbelief. He said that if I didn't want to go to work I should just stay home but that I shouldn't make up ridiculous stories. Then as if to prove a point, he offered to accompany me on another 'retraced steps' mission. So, down we went. We looked in the hall, the elevator, the entry-way to the building, in the garbage can, the mailboxes, the stairwell, the garden and under the hedges along the pathway. We looked everywhere. But we found no cartisiyah.
A few weeks ago Z and I watched an amusing clip about alien abduction. Two guys wanted to find out whether alien abductions are factual occurrences. They attended a 'UFO convention' in an attempt to 'learn the truth' - in addition, they interviewed a number of alien abduction regression therapists. Supposedly these therapists can help a person recall what was going on during the time that they spent 'abducted' by aliens. It seems that generally the experience cannot be recalled consciously because aliens have techniques to mask the memories but this subconscious therapy can restore the event to you in full detail. The therapist explained that there are certain symptoms which can indicate that you have been abducted by aliens. One of these symptoms is a 'time lapse' or 'a short span of time which completely seems to disappear from your memory.' It is a hole in the thread of your life. You can't remember what you were doing and everything seems fuzzy.
Somehow, this is the only reasonable explanation that I can think of which fits the situation. I had the card in my hand before I stepped out of the building and when I stepped out of the entrance of the building into the blinding sun I must've been picked up by a passing ship. I don't know if they wanted to look through the contents of my head or they just wanted a bus-card. All I know is if they wanted a bus-card they should've gotten on a bus and bought their own. Mine still had 9 out of 10 punches left on it.