Off Kilter.

It felt odd going back to work today.
At lunch, I had a very odd baked potato from the local take-away. Oddly cold and peppery with a hint of madness.
It was odd when my double Rich Tea dunk collapsed into my cup of tea after years of perfecting the 4-second plunge.
It was odd coming home to find a concave Easter egg (a blip present) patiently awaiting its demise (it is presently under demolition as I write).
One of those odd days when you feel like you've got someone else's hands instead of your own.
You know what I mean? Or is it, oddly, just me?