On occasion, I've been known to refer to it as a "Murphy's Law life," this one I lead. I suppose it's a form of complaining -- or, at least, lamenting -- and I always feel a tad guilty when I do it because it makes me seem ungrateful for the many blessings I've been given. That, and it's kind of whiny.
Still, there are days when I think: "What else?!" (And then I stop myself, because I'm afraid there will be an answer!) Thursday was another one of those days for me. I started off late for my 7:30 radiation appointment -- only 7 or 8 minutes, compliments of some sketchy roads and traffic (and, truthfully, my own not getting out the door quite as soon as I should have), but I hate the thought of holding things up for the techs or patients who follow me. I got there and changed into my robe and gown at warp speed....and then sat for another ten minutes. Apparently, they weren't ready for me anyway. Which wouldn't have been a big deal, except that I'd naively scheduled an oil change at Dobbs for 8:00. (Which I'd actually rescheduled from Monday, because there wasn't any way on God's green earth I was going to try and brave the roads that early Monday morning between Snowmygosh & the Polar Vortex*.) Normally, that would have worked just fine, because I'm in the "boost phase" of radiation, which makes my treatments even briefer. But no....not Thursday. I didn't even get away from the hospital until 8:00. But fine, I figured - I'd make it to Dobbs by 8:15 and if they could no longer get me in, try again another day.
Actually, it was closer to 8:25 by the time I got there - the roads still weren't all that good. But Bart, the friendly manager, said it shouldn't be a problem - they had one car ahead of me which should be done shortly, and then they'd get to me. So, I wandered into the waiting room, sat down and began looking at my phone - e-mails, Facebook, Twitter, texting David. The owner of the car ahead of mine was already in there so I didn't even attempt to grab the remote and see what was on TV - I figured he was already watching whatever it was. Turned out it was a History Channel special about satan or hell - the focus was on devil worshippers when my ears finally tuned into it. I should have taken that as a sign.
Sure enough, when the mechanic came over to talk to me, he had bad news: my front brakes were just about shot. Not that this should have come as a surprise to me - the car has 198,000 miles on it. What really stung, though, is that I just had the rear brakes done a couple months ago, along with two new tires and some other repairs that added up to around $800. And here was another $400 to shell out.
Have I mentioned that I timed my cancer diagnosis just right, so that my treatment spans two deductible/calendar years, rather than one? So I get the joy of meeting a $2,500 deductible twice in the span of four months? Whee! (I won't mention the fact that Riley's about to get her braces on later this month.....Oops - I just did.)
So, two hours later, and $375 poorer (I found a coupon in my e-mail - yay!) I trudged into my office. In the kitchen, I encountered my co-workers, Maureen and Hopey. One of them may have asked how things were going. I believe my initial response was a growl. I then relayed my morning, to which Maureen responded she guessed they were right - when it rains, it pours. Then she added there needed to be a corollary for when it snows, in light of our recent weather. I first said, "dumps." Then it came to me, "When it snows, it blows."
Yeah, it does. But we bundle up and dust off our (road-worn) vehicles, and keep plowing through it. On the bright side, Hopey mocked up a cool t-shirt to capture the moment:
*Saw "Snowmygosh & the Polar Vortex" open for "Right Said Fred" in 1995. Weird show.