So, that crazy earthquake today! No lie, I thought it was a fat person running down the aisle of cubicles. (I mean, it’s happened before.) Then I figured out something was up when my flimsy little walls started shaking more than ever, and realized the office windows were warping slightly. I thought it was cool and didn’t know why everyone else thought it was so scary. No damage to life or property, though.
I get home, finally, after a two-hour train ride on one of the most packed trains I’ve been on yet, and find that the books on the top of my desk slid, pushing my lava lamp onto what will be my altar. The altar has a slight ding now on its edge, and the top cap of the lava lamp has a slight dent now, but no harm done. The lava lamp, though, did knock over a candlestick on my altar. As I went to reach for it, I knocked over the sherry glass on my altar which was going to be used as my chalice, which promptly shattered.
I guess I had to sacrifice something, after all. The glass wasn’t even mine, truthfully; I pilfered it from a box of my brother’s old stuff back from when he was a neopagan years and years back, took it to college with me as a petite classy wine glass, and eventually used it here for offerings before I settled on using it as my chalice. No biggie, really. I just need to go out and get my own, apparently; I consider this a way of the world telling me that I need to sacrifice or make something from my own wares and resources for this stuff.