What exactly is God trying to tell me?

OK, So I didn't need another day off work. But for some reason God decided to blow a huge crater in the middle of the road smack dab in the middle of the building I work in and Michael's building. 350 Lexington (at 41st St)(I work in 355 and Michael is in 340) At 5:57pm steam pressure blew a fucking hole in the intersection that I crossed 52 minutes earlier, the intersection that I cross a half a dozen times every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. A person was killed in the intersection. Trains are stopped. There is an aesbestos warning. The entire section of midtown Manhattan is closed.
Michael and I are off tomorrow.
If this isn't a sign that we need to get out of this city then I don't know what is.

Be careful what you wish for...

So, I have been bitching for a while now that I would kill to have a day off. And not a weekend day. A weekday day. A day to myself. A day of my own making. A day to watch Martha, walk the dogs, window shop, eat ice cream... today is not that day.
I, in my clutzy way, somehow managed to sprain my ankle. Sadly, there is no funny story to go along with this event as I don't even know what I did to sprain my ankle. I simply woke up this morning unable to walk. This sucks for many reasons.
First, I can't garden (my job today) if I can't walk.
Second, I am trapped in my basement apartment since I can't climb stairs because I can't walk.
Third, I can't do my internship walking around surveying parks because again, I can't walk.
I can't even order food because I can't climb to the top of our stairs to get the food from the delivery guy because I can't walk.
This day sucks.

My friend, the raccoon

So, this is what I do at work now. I chase raccoons. Pretty cool huh?