As you stagger around bleary-eyed in the morning trying to get out the door, you realize that your keys are not in the cat bowl where they should be, nor are your shoes kicked in the corner where you’re certain they were last night. As the minutes tick by and you start to wonder if this is a result of the bottle of wine you finished off or early onset Alzheimers, you realize that either way you will most certainly be late for work. What you don’t know is that because you are seven minutes behind schedule, you will miss getting creamed by a rogue police car that is careening down your street in hot pursuit of a shoplifter who took off with an even hotter Big Gulp from the nearby 7-Eleven. Because fate intervened, you will not spend the next five months in a full body cast. You may be fired for being late for the sixth time this month, but at least you’ll have your health. Continue reading “The Adjustment Bureau” →