Egging catastrophy

A plastic button of wisdom (as opposed to a pearl) has been passed down through the generations: don’t cry over spilt milk. Similarly, one is instructed to make lemonade when life gives one lemons. I do not get upset when I break glasses or mess things, mainly because it happens quite regularly. Sometimes there are days of darkness and I move through space like a zombie, almost purposely knocking over things and sweeping them up in apathy. Recently I was intending to make a nice sandwich for supper, with cheese, tomato and egg. Balancing a number of ingredients and cooking implements in my hands (making sandwiches is of course an art that requires multiple intricate gadgets) I recklessly balanced my last egg between my pinky and the mass of other things crowding my fingers. Alas, it was one of those days of muted destruction and you must know already what was to come. This is something which has in fact not happened to me before. I was surprised and almost amused. I am quite sure that time does not always travel at the same speed, because when that egg was hurtling towards the floor I remembers a lengthy, distinct and clear chain of thoughts: I see the egg falling … this is probably a bad thing to be happening … I think this egg will not withstand the impact … in fact I’m sure that it’s going to smash … on my carpet. As I was thinking this the egg was falling down through space like Alice down the tunnel. After a while the impact of the two hard bodies caused the weaker one to collapse and ooze in astonishment and self-pity. I stood motionless while the consequences of this event played out in my head: my supper is ruined, and this egg is going to sink into the carpet, rot and stink. I had to act quickly. Luckily I plucked the wisdom stored in the collective unconscious, like a ripe fruit, that small accidents should not be allowed to create too much discomfort. For further wisdom of how to clean an egg off a carpet I consulted the internet. Easy it seems: simply warm water and soap solves such accidents. I deduced that there have been many people through time that have watched their eggs hurtle in slow motions towards clean carpets, since there were a number of entries on this topic. So my action was only natural. What a relief. There is a second step to overcoming acts of inconsequent mismanagement. This step is to turn the minor misfortune into something useful (otherwise known as making lemonade). No, I did not scoop up the egg and eat it anyways, with extra seasoning. Having come from a culture where domestic products have multiple unexpected purposes and are never wasted, I found a use for my broken egg. In fact, mixed with honey and castor oil the said egg made a nourishing hair mask. Forty minutes after application, a shower and a blowdry my hair looked fabulous and the egg stain on my carpet was drying under a blanket of serviettes. All in all my tiny mismanagement was turned into a domestic adventure.