Mountain climbing for ants

There's a theory I have, which goes something like this: In the absence of any real trauma in your life, small events will grow in size until they reach the threshold of your trauma levels.  Yesterday was a catalog of petty annoyances, bad decisions, deliberate bad decisions, and falling off the wagon in a major way.  Also, there was little sleep.  The past few weeks have been action packed and exciting, so it is inevitable that a day will occur which accentuates the good by giving you a taste of the bad.  That taste, is like overcooked eggplant with capers (to me, it doesn't get much more unappetizing than that). 

Less one dwells overmuch on such insignificant tribulations, the world provides adequate reminders of real problems.  The sound of a car starting up, where the engine sounds like its consuming itself with great glee.  The world also provides moments of beauty to look at.  A small garden of lilies in the yard of a house in the Back End, pale ladies huddled together.  In the lot next to them, were some plant with tiny blue flowers the size of the head of a large pin.  They are so tiny they pull the eye into them, to stop and look a little closer.  If you stop and take a look at them, they will pull you out of your head space for a while.  You can then return to your day, with a little more glide in your step, and a little less tension in your grip.