I’ve been having one of those weeks. Before I get too embroiled in telling my tales of woe, let me just say, I absolutely, positively realize there are people all over the world having much worse weeks. I appreciate and honor that from the bottom of my being. It’s just that when you are in the midst of a @*#$(& storm, it’s sometimes difficult to remember to be grateful for any glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
You know the old superstition they have in Hollywood about the power of three? Just in case you actually have a life and don’t manage to store completely useless trivia in your noggin at all times, I’ll explain.
In Hollywood, if someone has the audacity to pass away, there are always two other famous people who are likewise doomed. I doubt anyone has ever done the math (I mean, what happens if five people kick the bucket on the same day in Hollywood?)… suffice it to say – when three people shuffle off their mortal coil (not to be confused with shuffling off to Buffalo, although you might not be able to tell the difference) everyone sort of gives everyone else that look. The look that says, “I told you when so-and-so died on Monday that you-know-who and who-knows-what were probably trembling in their boots!”
So, when I had bad luck last Monday, I should have realized there was more in store. Of course, if I had realized, I might simply have crawled under the covers and tried to wait it out. Unfortunately, I have a job and they frown on me spending my time in that manner.
First, I had a plumbing problem. Anyone who is responsible for the upkeep of a home knows that the moment you have to call a plumber you had better either have a rich daddy, or room left on your credit card. Let’s just say I was not born to wealth (I know, hard to believe, huh?).
When I received his bill I reminded myself to breathe. Just let it go, the calming voice in my head said. Just let it go. Although I couldn’t successfully let it go completely, the voice was more like this: by the end of the day.
The next day I somehow managed to lock myself out of my house, which meant spending two hours waiting for my husband to come home and let me in. He also reminded me that he’d hidden a key in a strategic place, but had forgotten to tell me where. When I asked him where, we had one of those moments, because even he couldn’t remember. I’m pretty sure a burglar somewhere knows, and will make use of this information the next time I skip down my steps!
And then on Saturday morning, just as it began pouring torrents of cold, pounding rain (I might be exaggerating just a bit, but I’ve had a bad week!) the automatic window on my VW decided to roll half-way down and stay there.
No matter what I tried, that window wouldn’t budge. I had plans, big plans – like going somewhere and doing something – that were immediately put on hold. By this point, I’m not even trying to remember to calm myself down. It feels good to throw an old fashioned, foot stomping, curse-word tossing tantrum. Although, when my neighbor looked out her window I remembered my manners and smiled sweetly and waved.
Of course, it was a Saturday. Mishaps like this on a Saturday mean having to wait until Monday for anything to be done. I drove to my local VW dealer and tried my best to sound authoritative and demanding (I think I probably sounded more whiney and pathetic). I even reminded them I’d already had this window fixed once before. They reminded me that was over two years ago. Now that’s craftsmanship!
I simply cannot tell you how desperately I wished I had an old fashioned window with a hand crank so I could have smiled and rolled the window up on the guy’s smirk. Admittedly, it may just have been his face, but when you get to that point, everyone is suspect!
So now it’s Tuesday. I have my car back. My windows work (my credit cards don’t)! And for the moment, I’m holding fast to the belief that three’s a charm. Although no one had to shuffle off anywhere in the telling of this tale, I’m really, really hoping my next piece of luck will be good! You know, like they discover the cure for cancer is a foot stomping, curse-word tossing tantrum!