I had a day last week when so many things went wrong I was sure the universe was out to get me. It dumped on me. Repeatedly. I had to stop the cycle, but how?
Now, hiding out from the universe is complicated. If it knows where you are and wants to dump on you, and you’re stuck living in it in the first place, just where exactly do you go to hide?
So here’s what happened.
I came home from an event with my crystal partner, Fallon, and noticed the dead bolt on my condo door wasn’t working right. Hmm.
That night as my Cavalier, Alki, and I came in from last call I shut and bolted the door, and heard a cat wailing loudly outside. I looked around for Grace the Cat, then opened the door. There she was in our condo hallway, wailing at me. Apparently it’s okay for her to sneak out when we come in from dog duties, but not okay to bolt the door in her face. Duly noted.
The next morning I remembered the dead bolt problem and decided to check it out: as I was twiddling with the key, the entire locking mechanism fell out of the lock. So much for that dead bolt: I would have to replace it.
Later, I was getting ready for brunch with family, so thought I’d make an attempt to look respectable and dry my hair. But my hair dryer was burned out. Just like that. So my hair had to dry on its own, which it usually does anyway, but still.
Then I decided to take my morning vitamins. They went down okay, but the water that went with them didn’t. It veered off to the side, I choked, and my throat swelled shut. Now, when your throat swells shut you can’t get air from either your nose or your throat, and the end process is: death. I heaved and heaved and after a very long minute I got a breath of air, and finally my throat opened up again. It was scary and what nobody else ever says: just plain embarrassing. How do you admit that you accidentally suffocated yourself—on water? Or explain to concerned family why you’re hoarse (and remain so days later)?
You’re supposed to be safe at home, but in only a few hours my cat had been accidentally locked out, our dead bolt broke, my occasional beauty routine was stifled, and I’d mysteriously suffocated on water.
It was time to run away. Leave home. Be safe somewhere.
But on the way to meet my family for brunch, a bird flew out of nowhere and hit my car windshield!
“No!” I yelled as it hit. I never saw what happened to it. I admit, by then I was moderately paranoid, sure that the bird, alive or dead, would try to get me if I got out of the car, so I just, well, gunned it away from there.
By then I couldn’t deny it: that day, the universe was out to get me. So I decided the only solution was to be defiant, and fight back.
Now I make sure my indoor cat is really indoors. I bought a new dead bolt. I let my hair dry itself, like it usually does anyway. I drive with the windows down, yelling, so birds won’t fly into me, although, strange thing, I’ve noticed that other drivers and pedestrians are yelling a lot, too, so the universe must still be acting up, just not that close around me.
And the whole water thing? Well, we know our water isn’t safe anyway, and if it’s that easy to accidentally suffocate on it, I should make it worthwhile, so I’m switching to Scotch.
Plus I’m being careful—and defiant. After all, the universe was out to get me, but it failed. Now it’s off toying with someone else. For now.
© 2012 Robyn M Fritz