Not a good day

So we've got to be going through life with a certain amount of apathy right? I would liken it to a force field. The impenetrable force field of emotion (non-emotion?) that you cannot pierce because then I'll be forced to do something. To care. To exhibit concern. To get all excited.
Anyways, I think I do a pretty good job of keeping my force field in pristine condition so that it deflects almost everything thrown at it, but today I think my force field was compromised. I inspected it closely in the mirror and it looked weakened, diminished and indefensible. Not good. It would take only a couple of minor blows to eradicate it entirely.
I sat next to a drunk on the seabus on the way home. He made a point of sitting next to me, reeking of beer (the beer which he was still drinking out of a McDonald's cup) and I ratcheted up the volume on my iPod and refused to tilt or turn my head even slightly in his direction for fear that he would consider this some form of encouragement. At first I was angry that he had put me in this position. That I was made to feel uncomfortable. That I had to be subjected to his drunken groaning and scratching and his leering at the Sudoku puzzle I was pretending to work on when in fact I was trying not to be sick from the nauseating stench of cheap beer wafting from him. And then I was disgusted with myself for thinking any of these things: one would think that one's circumstances would have to be pretty goddamn bad to be that drunk at 4:45pm on a Monday on the seabus and that the worst that he was probably capable of was drunken, friendly (but unwanted) conversation.
Then I saw some police scream at someone to lie down on the concrete at Lonsdale Quay and they were aiming something at him. I'm not sure if it was a gun or a taser and people kept on walking by like it was a non-event (their force fields must have been working really well). And this cop runs past me and I'm thinking, "Is that a gun? There are people milling about everywhere," and the guy lowers himself onto the ground still, oddly, smoking a cigarette so that he kind of has to turn his head to avoid mashing the smoke into the ground and they handcuff him and one of the cops gently takes the cigarette from between the guy's lips before they start going through his pockets.
Then more weirdness as I walked up Lonsdale (I had wanted to clear my head, but that just really wasn't working out too good for me) and I started thinking, "What the hell is going on today?". There were just too many oddities and too much strangeness and that's when I realized that, really, nothing untoward was happening. My force field was at a critical low and these things, these thoughts were seeping in and getting to me and I swear it was all I could do not to break into a run to get home, all while refusing to make eye contact and trying to think only happy thoughts.
Anyways. I guess that's a pretty stupid analogy, but it's the best that I can come up with at this particular point in time.
Some days I can't bear to leave the house, you know?
Am I alone in this?
And where do I get a force field repair kit?