Listening to Beethoven and contemplating my life.

[normalforce]

 I just moved into my new apartment. My mom and I fought the other day but this morning she offered to come help me move/see my new place so I agreed. I was hoping somehow this activity would be a sort of cathartic bonding experience. We went to a consignment shop and bought a nice set of used dishes. We wrapped them in newspaper and put them in 2 boxes. Once in Baltimore, I parked my car, walked, thought I saw a better parking spot, pulled up to it and realized it was too small, drove around the block and reparked. My mom was walking up the block with one box of dishes and didn't hear me honk. I was trying to get her to wait up. She didn't hear or see me. She was hurrying a little, trying to save the same parking spot I had seen, when her foot caught on uneven pavement. In slow mo I see her fall forward, the box of dishes crashing in front of her, just as I'm hurrying up behind her. She sits up, tearful, embarrassed and sad. There is blood on her hands. She is shaken up but seems intact. I carry the box and we go inside to wash her up. She's so upset, she thinks that all of the dishes have broken. I'm more relieved that she's not broken than worried about the dishes having problems.

All but three plates in that box were broken. Oh well. I still have the other box of intact bowls and small plates. I still have my mom.