A red-tailed hawk flew overhead shrieking this morning, but the thick fog made it sound like a call from the jungly depths of prehistory. Fog magnifies the mundane, transforming cows' bellows into distant foghorns, smoothing ironweed blossoms into plush purple scepters, and making the neighbor's donkeys look majestic.
Well, almost majestic. It would take more than a little fog to make those animals look anything other than ridiculous.
The fog that's fallen over my mind since we returned from our vacation has similarly distorted reality, turning every imagined slight into unbearable injustice and every encounter with pettifogging bureaucrats into an epic battle between good and evil. (Come to think of it, I wonder whether my health insurance company's customer service office is located in Mordor? That would explain a lot...)
It's time to clear the fog out! Haul in some big fans and crank up the sunshine--I've got work to do, and I can't work well inside a fogbank. (Is that a dog barking or some hoofed fiend chortling in the distance?)