Saturday was a beautiful day. It was hot. It was sunny. And it was filled with fun activities.
It was the perfect day.
Riiiight up until it wasn’t.
When things go wrong in my world, they all seem to happen in clumps. And boy, was Saturday afternoon and evening all one big string of things going wrong.
It had been a great day, everything running along all tickety-boo. But it the bad started when I was unloading the dishwasher late Saturday afternoon. I had a stack of plates that I was lifting up to put into the cupboard over the counter when a glass plate in the pile suddenly, and quite literally, exploded. I have no idea how or why it happened, but it literally burst into a million little shards of glass.
They were in the cupboards. They were on the counter. They were in the open dishwasher. They were scattered from one end of the kitchen to another. They were even in my bra, for crying out loud.
It took forever to clean it all up. I’m still not convinced I got them all. I have the feeling I’ll be finding little bits of glass around my house for years…
I was already in a huff about that when I went to my mom’s, where my sister’s kids were staying for the night. We decided to get food from the chipstand for supper (I console myself with food, remember?), and so Danica and I went down street to pick it up. As we sat waiting for our order, she was playing with my phone and not being extremely careful about it, so I warned her, “Danica, please don’t break my phone. Everything else in my life is broken, I don’t need a broken phone too.” (and yes, by “everything else in my life”, I did just mean one stupid plate. I can be a tad melodramatic when I want to be.)
Literally 30 seconds later, the leg of my favourite sunglasses just fell off. Right off my face. Completely snapped. I hadn’t even been touching them or anything.
I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t my phone, though, right?
After supper, I was debating on whether or not I should go up to Shawville for a few hours to watch some of the ball games at the DIFD tournament going on. I was hesitant – I couldn’t think of anyone to ask to come with me, and I hate going into things like that alone. But I knew my friend Lynn was up there, she’d been texting me telling me to get my ass up to the ball field, so finally I got up the nerve to just go. People keep telling me I never go anywhere anymore, that I’m turning into a hermit… I thought, Well! I’ll show them!
So I arrive at the ball field, and quickly spot Lynn sitting up in the bleachers with a group of friends – she waved me over, I climbed on up, and I had hardly settled in until – get this – a frigging seagull SHIT on me.
I’m not even kidding. The only good news is that it shit on Lynn too. If I hadn’t had her to share in the pain of the incident, I might have burst into tears and fled for home immediately.
I swear to GOD!!!!! These things only happen to ME!!!!!
(Well… and Lynn too, I guess.)
I was fortunate in that the bird shit landed pretty much all on my bare shoulder, which made clean up fairly easy. And we did laugh a lot as we got ourselves cleaned up in the bathroom. It also made for quite a conversation piece, as we could barely move two feet without someone else coming up to us and saying, “Is it true a bird shit on you guys?”
Why, yes. Yes, it did.
And that was almost always followed by, “Well, you know, it’s supposed to be good luck!”
Which I’m convinced is something people just say to you after a BIRD SHITS ON YOU to make you feel better.
I haven’t run into any fantastic good luck since then, anyways. I’ll be sure to let you know if I do, though.
These weren’t the only “shitty” things that happened to me in that short span of hours on Saturday, but they are the only blog-worthy ones. And I fear that’s just about enough whining and complaining from me for one day anyways, isn’t it?
Onwards & upwards, friends. Onwards & upwards.