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Yes… I’ll Have a Rainy Day or a Monday Please


September 2, 2010 by wcobserver

by Alison Grisham

We all have bad days from time to time.  Every now and again a catastrophic event will make a person feel like waving a white flag.   It may be a broken heart or a hefty tax bill gnawing away at the gut.  Maybe it’s a wrecked car or a lost job lowering the boom.  These are the days that make surrender feel like a good plan.

However, most bad days aren’t borne out of some insurmountable calamity, but more likely are the product of life’s little vexations that pull and tug on the fragment of frayed rope that you’re clinging to.  They’re the annoyances that poke, push and prod on that “last nerve,” …the one that always seems to be holding the whole operation together.

Take last week for example, when it was just over 273 degrees Kelvin outside.  I was loading things from my car into a cement storage room, the size of a walk-in closet and the temperature of a factory furnace.  Sure, it was out of direct sunlight.  But that would have only been a relief if I had been previously tied to a stake where open flames were licking my high tops.

As I took in the garbage bags containing all my worldly possessions, each sack… in turn… ripped open.  The bottom dropped out of the first.  The second was the casualty of a slippery grip.  But the third was just an exercise in futility.  Despite my best efforts of shoring up the bottom, the side tore open, spilling the contents onto a precariously placed jewelry box and sending bobbles and bangles scattering across the endless expanse of parking lot.

By the time I picked everything up and finished my pity party, I was drenched in sweat.  Not delicate girl sweat, but the salty, weighty beads that fly off the face of a fighter, fresh from a stinging haymaker to the jaw.

I wasn’t exactly cheerful, but I knew the car air conditioning would be a welcome relief, so I was holding it together.  What I didn’t know was that the steering column would be stuck, making it impossible to turn the key or get any air conditioning for another half hour.

When the crisis was over, all I could think about was hydration and I couldn’t resist the temptation of the icy McDonald’s coke that kept taunting me.  My usual splurge is their medium drink.  But sometimes you just have to “go big or go home.”  So I got the large which, I now know, comes in a styrofoam cup.

You… may be thinking of the environment.  My immediate concern was for the imperceptible puncture in the bottom of the cup, which caused a sugary river of soda to stream steadily down my right leg.

Now, with two brain cells, I might’ve stopped the car and dumped the drink.  But working with just the one I have, I opted instead to hold the drink out the window letting the sticky, syrupy mess create spin art on the sides of my car.

When I pulled in the driveway, still grasping the empty cup, my only thoughts were for a shower and a glass of water.  That is until those thoughts were replaced by wishing that the house key wasn’t locked inside the actual house.

There’s no moral to this story.   Unfortunately, I didn’t go on to win the lottery that night and the locksmith wasn’t my soul mate, making it all worthwhile.  In the end I don’t know why things happen the way they do.  Maybe it’s to make us stronger.  Maybe some people are just a magnet for bad luck or maybe it’s just like Lyle Lovett says, “there’s no bad luck, just the luck you’ve found.”

Ordinarily I’d think more about it.  But I’m too busy interviewing.  Turns out that my “last nerve” just turned in his resignation.  Go figure.



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