I might as well invest in a new wardrobe. A wardrobe of yellow shirts encircled by a black zigzag stripe. A whole passel of Charlie Brown shirts. Because any day now, an amateur psychologist with a stand offering advice for a nickel is going to pull a football away just as I'm about to kick it. And if I go trick-or-treating, I'm sure to get a rock.
Even Steven has put me in my place this week. Long gone are the days of buying $100 win-all scratchers. I've been getting to sleep around 5:30 a.m., trying to avoid Farmer H's sickness sprayed by his breather. And T-Hoe's radio is broken again, even before I had time to tell you it had spontaneously regenerated during the time Farmer H had been using T-Hoe's battery to jump the generator. In addition, I received a JURY DUTY LETTER! And a few hours ago, the microwave broke.
Good Grief!
I knew my luck would change. I just didn't know it would be with such a vengeance.
4 comments:
Can you hear it? Listen. Carefully. Intently.
I'm playin' the world's smallest violin... and it's a sad song just for you.
Sioux,
I DO hear it, Madam! It sounds like a mash-up of "Everybody Hurts" and "Under the Bridge." Your smallest-violin skills are BREATHTAKING!
On the up-side, with everything going wrong at once, when it's over you can look forward to good times and win-alls again for a long while.
River,
So true! I already have something good to report, but I will have to detail the bad part first. On my not-so-secret blog. Probably starting Sunday.
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