As I turned and looked back toward the hotel I noticed that my footprints leading out into the city were mismatched. One side was glistening, small and white. The other was misshapen from my limp and each heel was pooled with spots of bright red blood. It struck me as a metaphor for my life. Always seeing the good. Lucky. The other side bloodied, stumbling. Never quite able to keep up.

Jenny Lawson, 2015, Furiously Happy