In numerous posts, I've made reference to "Murphy" and moreover, my relationship with him and his laws. Just to clarify, Murphy is NOT my Sugar-Daddy or the flavour of the week. Sheesh, I'm not THAT kinda person, although I suppose if you looked at my current situation, one would be 100% correct in saying that my other half IS my Sugar-Daddy for the next while. But his name is NOT Murphy, so never fear. SO, who exactly is Murphy? And why the hell does he have laws?
Well, I actually don't know, and honestly, I'm OK with not knowning him personally. But I DO know that his laws TOTALLY affect my life - pretty much on a daily basis. For those fortunate folk who have not had any encounters with Murphy's Law, let fill you in. It means that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
I live and breathe this motto. It truly is an everyday part of my life. Not by choice, I must say, but I AM beginning to accept it. I always prepare for the worst, but hope (pray? beg? plead? kick and scream?) for the best, although I KNOW that the worst will ALWAYS happen, because, well, that's how the cookie crumbles in my life. Honestly . . . this law could be rewritten and tweaked, then named after me. For real, it could.
Murphy's laws mustn't be confused with bad luck. There existed a time when I felt that most of my misfortunes were bad luck . . . but then I met my now friend crazy-insanely-busy-friend, Sherri, and honestly?! She TOTALLY takes the cake in bad luck. Seriously . . . if I didn't know her personally, I wouldn't believe all the shit that has happened to her, but it has, however, someday her bad luck will have NO choice but to turn around - because there simply won't be any bad luck left for her; you know, because she's used up all the bad luck (you know I love ya, right Sherri?! I KNOW that at some point nothing but horseshoes are going to fall from your arse!!!).
Anyway, Murphy's Law affects my life almost daily. You know, like having the repair guy come to the house on a Saturday to fix the washing machine (that's been unusable for 6 days already), which he did - the new 'bellows/boot' thing looks great - for a rubber bellows/boot and all; except he ended up doing something else to it which results in the damn machine not even turning on (and yes, it IS plugged in, and the power source works too). Wouldn't you think the repair guy would CHECK that the damn thing turned on?! Well, probally normally he would, but this is ME we're talking about, so he neglected that little detail. And of course I won't be around on Monday so the earliest it will be fixed is Tuesday - but that likely won't happen because as I said, Murphy and me are like *THIS* and they'll have to order some part in, and then they repair guy will be all booked up next week. I'll be without my washer for at least another week. Maybe even a month. The irony of it all? I usually ask for the OTHER repair guy, Chuck, because Chuck has a personality and totally seems to know what he's doing. The other guy? Personality of a stone (and not one of those cute painted ones, because those stones DO have personality - TONS of it actually; what we're talking about are those stones that just sit there and scream out that someone kick them). When the stone-guy comes, I feel as though I have to put on my straight-laced face and perhaps make a spot of tea to sip in my fancy parlour filled with lace doilies while I look down my nose and poo-poo anyone that comes my way. Seriously - he totally makes me feel that way. And when this guy fixed the ceran top on my stove, it has NEVER been the same (all loose and shit - and when I called they were just going to send HIM out again, so we just decided to suck it up and leave it as is), and now this. Yeah, I'm not so sure that I think he totally knows what he's doing. Or maybe he likes coming here SO much that he wrecks shit so he CAN come back?! Who knows? What I DO know is that my washing machine still doesn't work and for that, I'm kinda-sorta pissed. I admit it; I cried about it. I was THAT frustrated. And then
Sorry . . . I guess I went of on a tangent there. I'm trying VERY hard not to dwell on the washing machine situation, because you know, it's perfectly normal for a not quite 1.5 year old machine to break down 3 times in that time frame. Yep. Perfectly normal, and I'm not upset at all. Nope, not one iota. Ok, maybe a bit. Or a lot. A whole hell of a lot. Like I'm seething and ready to spit nails. Yeah, so aside from wanting to vomit rainbows and sunshine, I was only reflecting on just how pissed off I was. Or still am.
BUT . . . I'm moving on. Really; I am.
Back to Murphy. And his damn laws.
It's like getting into the car to head somewhere when I'm running late and the gas tank is on empty. Or again, running late and hitting every red light. Or being in a hurry and getting behind some clown that straddles the lanes and drives about 50km below the speed limit. Or getting in the lineup at the store that needs a price check, personel changeover or receipt paper change (EVERY freakin' time). Or getting through your entire order at the store and realizing that the kids took your wallet out of your purse. Or having to choose between A or B and it being the wrong one EVERY SINGLE TIME. Or going to the box office for Ticketmaster (back in the old days when computers weren't commonplace and you had to line up at the kiosk for HOURS to get tickets) and the tickets for Depeche Mode (don't judge me - I was young) being sold out to the person in FRONT of you in the line - the same damn person that line-jumped in the first place (you know, one person saved a space and the other guy came in later). Or filling the pool only to find out there is a big honkin' leak in it. Or breaking a pyrex dish and a piece of it getting inbedded into your toe and tendon (and requiring minor surgery to remove it - only they can't get it all out, and then several months down the road it's bothering you A LOT). Or planning to stand up for friends in their wedding and your daughter winds up hospitalized with a life-threatening issue. Or giving 5 weeks notice to the families involved with your daycare instead of the 1 or 2 that they'd typically get (even though you are SO finished with the job and don't want to keep the kids anymore) and some of those families STILL screw you in the end. Or getting ready to toss a water balloon at someone (from a moving golf cart) and you wind up exploding that said balloon all over yourself. Or dripping toothpaste or food on your shirt as you're about to head out the door. Or "that time of the month" arrives while you're out and about and finding out the hard way that the kids have opened and wrecked all your tampons, and NOT having a quarter for the machine in the restroom, and when someone gives you a quarter, you find out the hard way that the damn machine is empty anyway. Or having your neighbours get a pool installed and the pool folk knock down the power and phone lines to YOUR house. Or the day you NEED the kids up and at it early (meaning their normal time to rise) and they won't drag their butts out of bed. Or a kid losing a tooth and you don't have any change. Or your bra strap snapping when you're wearing the white shirt. Or the kid puking on YOUR watch. Or typing something really important and before you hit save the power goes out. Or the leaving the windows in the car open to air it out (because there isn't a cloud in the sky), but 10 mins later when you return to the car there's a torrential downpour. Or ... Or ... Or ... I could go on forever!!
Like I said, Murphy and I are *THIS* close.
You know, on second thought, maybe I WOULD like to meet Murphy.
To kick his arse.
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