I’m drowning in a sea of words and the occasional drop of coffee to keep me afloat as the waters rush and flood the screen with research papers, reflections, and of course the details of my daily life. Over the course of a two-day period, I managed to crank out the roughest of rough drafts on a thesis exceeding twenty pages, a few lengthier assignments for a business writing class, and this here account of my life, which is still in shambles if you’re curious.

I have no surprise left in me regarding the various incidents that plague my weeks as I traverse through this intense semester. When something out of the ordinary happens, I just accept the aftereffects and potential damages because there is no sense getting all worked up over something as mundane as falling up the stairs in my apartment building not once, not twice, but every day last week. Not only did the falls document my days, but each time I took a tumble I just so happened to be carrying more than I had the previous day.

As a future teacher, I am prone to the description of “a frazzled woman with three totes on one arm, two on the other, a travel mug in her left hand, a water bottle in her right hand, and a laptop briefcase strung over her shoulder, swaying to the beat of her signature heeled boots.” Yes, ladies and gents, I am a proud bag lady.

You would think that these falls would have put a damper on things, but in fact they were the least of my worries. You see, when I think I have my life in order, I fail, or outside entities like Ned the bird, for example, proceed to aggravate my stress and anxiety. If you’ve been keeping up with these excerpts from my life, you might recall the snippet about Ned the bird who disrupted my metaphysical poetry midterm by trying to break into my bedroom window, which would have given me a heart attack at a premature age, something I do not need at this point in time.

Well, Ned is back and in action. After a few days of peace and quiet – except from my obnoxious neighbors – I thought Ned had left the woods surrounding my building in search of bigger and better things. I was basking in the glorious silence, sipping hot chocolate as I read yet another novel for yet another class. And then, I heard it – that incessant pecking and chirping, amplified by the metal air conditioner still sat in my window because I’m weak and cannot remove the device myself. Or, I’m just lazy; take your pick.

It sounded as if Ned was making progress, but after a few minutes the noises ceased, and it appeared that he had left once again. My hope was that he had found a pretty lady far, far away, one with whom he could have his happily ever after, away from my humble abode. Fast forward to bedtime, which for me exists at the ripe hour of 8:30 p.m. on a weekday because I have to rise well before dawn to make it to work for a six or an eight-hour shift.

I was lying in bed, Hallmark movies playing in the background as I started drifting into what I had hoped would be a peaceful night’s rest. And this my friends, is exactly why I do not hope for restful sleep because I always jinx myself, and this is prime example number one.

Like I described, I was drifting off while the wonderful sound of trope-filled Christmas movies determined the course of my dreams for the night when the most terrifying sound penetrated my eardrums and jolted my drowsy frame into a position of fear … shoved underneath the covers with the sheets over my head because obviously that will save me from whatever danger I thought had infiltrated my bedroom.

The sound itself is comparable to a surcharge followed by a deafening boom. This heart stopping sound woke me up initially; and then it sounded as if an army of Ned’s were trying to break into my bedroom through both the window and the ceiling. I’m not sure why the sweet chirping and pecking of a bird can sound so serene during daylight hours and so monstrous when the sun sets, but I was convinced that Ned had brought his entire extended family and all his home boys to my bedroom window for a raging house party, and I was not having it.

I don’t even know what I would do if a swarm of weightless creatures with pointy beaks broke into my house. I could just see myself having to call the police and explain to the officer that my reason for calling is to report Ned and the bird bandits because they broke in and are currently swarming around my house while I’m locked in the bathroom. When they initially ask if the call is an emergency, I would swiftly report that yes, wild birds are in fact in my apartment.

While I realize that this sounds outlandish and as far from the truth as possible, I assure you that Ned is real, and he probably has a bird gang, as well. I’m convinced, and his antics will most likely fulfill numerous excerpts because if crazy things are going to happen to me, I will document them.

Aside from the bird antics, I also managed to break one of my favorite mugs by accidentally dropping it in the sink. I also decided that as a young adult, I should get out a little more; so, when fall break arrived, I took off from work and went ice skating with my own gang of friendly humans. I was doing just fine, and after numerous loops holding a friends hand, I took a few spins around the rink on my own, shawl whipping around me as I zoomed and teetered … and then I fell. And it wasn’t on of those cute stutter-step falls; no, in fact, I happened to look like I was slipping on a banana peel. My leg flew high into the air and I landed on my backside so hard, that it gave me a migraine.

Struggling to stand and embarrassingly recover from the incident that the packed rink just witnessed, not one of the young male workers came to help me or see if I was okay. However, a young girl of about ten zipped to my rescue with one of those guided walkers. It was just fantastic to be helped by a ten-year old who was well-balanced on her skates, while I still wobbled about like a spring chicken.

All in all, I had a great week and weekend. These events that continue to plague my life serve as proof that there exists a higher power, constantly testing my abilities in this life, for which, I am forever grateful. Leaving you avid readers with a piece of my embarrassment, I sign off, coffee in hand, until next week.