Bad Things Happen

It’s been a while – longer than I had hoped to write another post, however it seems to be the case that life (my life) always gets in the way. I’ve been working on a, eh, meaningful(?), strategic(?), project at work for the past few weeks, which has left me mentally drained come the end of the day. Add to it an abnormal amount of bullshit that seems to keep popping up in my personal life and I’ve got a lot going on. 

That said, maybe you’d feel better knowing what all I’ve been through in the past three weeks or so – because I’m starting to believe that I’m cursed. They say bad things happen in threes, but I’m not convinced – I’m on a streak of about eight or more annoying inconveniences. 

Let’s start with what I remember as the first, and probably the most memorable event. I was heading out of the office for the day, and happened to run into someone on the elevator that works in my office, but I hadn’t met before. Since our office only has about 80 people or so, you notice new faces. I introduced myself and asked him his name and what department he sat in, while reaching into my purse to grab my car key. The elevator stopped, I got off, turned to say good bye, and because I’m so animated when I talk, threw my hands up in the air while my car key flew out of my hand and directly into the 1.5” gap between the building and the elevator. 

I’m pretty sure that if I were an NBA player with a – I don’t know what you call it because I don’t watch that crap – a high percentage of shots made or whatever, or if someone had paid me a million dollar, I could have made that shot again. I mean, the key didn’t even touch the edges before falling into the elevator shaft abyss. 

I locked eyes with the guy riding the elevator with me right as the door closed and that was that. It was funny. Until I went to the security guard and explained my problem, and he told me that the only way to retrieve my key was to pay the engineering company something like $500-$1,000 in afterhour’s fees. Like most normal people have a thousand dollars sitting around to blow on finding a car key. I started to panic for reasons some might not understand – and most of the anxiety came from me not knowing anyone, except D, to help me out. 

After that wordy set up, the engineers came out the next day (at no charge, mind you) to look for my key and never found it. Why am I not surprised? 

The next day, July 3rd, I got off work a little early, went to the gym, and then picked up a case of beer on the way home. Because why not start celebrating America’s birthday sitting in the pool with your two best (dog) friends. Apparently our jack Russell, Audrey, ate or was stung by a few bees while I was sitting out there. I’ll spare you the specifics, but for a few minutes, I thought she was having a seizure or stroke and was dying in my arms. An unplanned trip to the vet and we were back home in an hour as if nothing had happened – except that I aged about 10 years in a very short period of time. 

You’d think that would have been the end of it, but no. July 4th, I was in the pool playing with the dogs, holding Beth (the lab) like a baby, when D runs and jumps in right next to us. Beth got scared and started pawing her way out of my arms, while almost tearing off what little is attached to my chest. We’re talking blood – a few weeks later and the cuts have healed, but the physical and emotional scars are still there. 

A few days later, on Sunday, I woke up, had my coffee and decided that I’d workout before taking a shower. I changed my clothes, put my shoes on and walked to the back door to put the dogs outside while I did my business. Let me back up for a second – our house backs up to a wash, which means that we have all sorts of little critters come into the back yard. Bunnies, gophers, birds… you get the point. The dogs absolutely love to rush out into the yard and chase the animals away, but really, I think they’re more interested in catching and killing them, which Audrey is quite good at. 

As I was saying, I opened the sliding glass door and before I could scan the yard, the dogs go flying out under my legs and all I saw were birds flying away. Then I saw Audrey chasing a gopher, who, scared for its little life, jumped into the pool. I love most animals, especially cute ones, and without thinking I ran out towards the pool, screaming at the dogs to leave the gopher alone. The poor thing was struggling to stay afloat, and as I reached in to pick it up, I (thank God) remembered that if it were to bite me, I’d have to be treated for rabies. I pulled my hand back (still screaming at the dogs) as D came outside in his underwear wondering what in the hell was going on. I turned to grab the pool skimmer, lost my balance and fell into the pool, fully clothed, with the gopher. Are you laughing yet? 

I struggled out of the pool and managed to rescue the little rodent, but I was in an incredible amount of pain from the fall and my struggle to get out of the pool. I still have bruises from that one. 

The following week, I’d put a pork shoulder in the crock pot before leaving for work. After I got home, I took the pork out to shred it and make the rest of dinner, but I had about a gallon of pork renderings left in the pot to discard. Here’s the thing – in hindsight I realize that my thought process at the time was a bit off. I attribute that to my mental exhaustion, but anyway, I decided it wasn’t a good idea to pour the juices down the sink because the fat could clog the drain – makes sense, right? I also decided that I shouldn’t pour it into the trashcan because, duh, if there’s a hole in the bag, it’ll leak all over. Eliminating those two options left me with the bright idea to wait for it to cool down a little, then pour it over the fence and into the wash behind the house.

That’s what I proceeded to do, but it didn’t work out that way. Instead, as I lifted the pot up to the fence, most of the contents actually spilled out towards me – onto my head, down my face and all down the front of my body. Have you ever had pig fat drip down your face? I wouldn’t recommend trying it. It takes a minimum of 3 showers to rid yourself of the smell. 

If my memory is still serving me correctly, the most recent (and hopefully final) event occurred just a few days ago. Monsoon season is upon us here in the desert, which I guess means that we get these freak thunderstorms that roll through in the afternoon/early evening. I’d come home from work just before the storm started, and discovered water pouring in from four windows in the house. Not sure how this was missed on our home inspection, but thankfully it’s covered under the warranty. 

The builders came out yesterday to inspect all of the windows, and to both he and my surprise, there’s at least ten (of about 30) windows that have had a leak of some sort. I have no idea what the repairs will entail just yet, but I think it’s safe to assume that whatever it is, there’s a promise of dust – and lots of it. 

So now, as I write this, I'm back on the East Coast for a little reprieve. Fingers crossed nothing goes wrong.