Real Kato Blog: Don't Touch Me

Today I am having what people call "a bad day".

I'm not sure I believe in luck, but if I did, I'd consider myself unlucky today. I would advise people not to touch me right now, lest my unluckiness rub off on them. (You know I'm feeling particularly unlucky because normally I advise people to touch me repeatedly.)

The day started off well enough. This is the first official day of my two-week holiday, and I met my friend Kim for lunch. Lunch was fine, Kim was lovely, and I figured I was in for a relaxing day.

On the way back from lunch, though, my car (the Honda, not the Mercedes) ran over some broken wooden sign that was LYING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREEWAY. I suppose that was a, um, "sign" of things to come. The sign was in two pieces, and I managed to swerve to miss the first one, but I ran over the second one. No big deal, I thought; it's just wood.

But then there was a funny noise (funny strange, not funny ha-ha) coming from the back. I thought perhaps I had a piece of the sign stuck under my car. Then there was a little "pop" noise, so I thought the piece had come loose. But then there was a MMMMRRRROOOOOHHHHRR roaring, humming noise that grew louder and louder, so I knew I was in trouble.

Sure enough: flat tire. I could even see the hole that the nail had left. I started to wonder what was on the two pieces of that wooden sign. I'm guessing, "TODAY YOU ARE"... "SCREWED".

So, I put on the dorky mini-spare, the one that makes your car look ghetto no matter how nice it is. I mean, you never see Donald Trump driving around with a little donut tire on his limo. (It occurred to me that my style is pretty ghetto, though. I use little pieces of cardboard under the legs of my furniture to protect my floor. I use cardboard poster frames in front of my fireplace to block the draft in winter. Cardboard boxes make up 95% of my storage system. I'm a one-man cardboard shanty-town.)

I drove to the tire shop to get my flat fixed. After taking out the tire, though, I couldn't find part of the jack, the metal bar that you turn to raise the car up. I figured I'd left it back by the side of the freeway so I went all the way back there. I couldn't find it. Then I looked in my trunk again, and it had MAGICALLY REAPPEARED.

Sigh. So in the end the flat was fixed, but I'd wasted the entire day. At that point I thought my day was going badly enough that I shouldn't really do much else, so I just took a nap.

Upon waking from my nap, I was hungry. I got some leftovers out of the fridge and put them in the microwave. Right now the microwave is on the floor in the hallway, because I AM GHETTO (but also because I'm renovating the kitchen). I started the microwave and the circuit breaker blew. This was odd enough because I'd operated the microwave from there before without any trouble. But oh well, fine, I can always reset the breaker.

I went out to my attached shed and pulled the chain for the light.

The entire ceiling came crashing down on my head.

Since then, I've been huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth in a fetal position.

Don't touch me.

Permalink 2 Comment