I don’t know when I first heard the phrase “bad things come in threes” but I was thinking just that when number four happened.
Individually these are silly things:
- I dropped a jam jar at Target on Monday. Totally cracked and splattered all over the aisle. No one at the store was much bothered by it, but I felt awful.
- I made fridge oats and promptly dropped the jar on Wednesday morning while rushing to get to work. I am off fridge oats for a while. It looks like vomit when it splatters. So gross.
- Tonight, I was preparing to take the trash out when the bag broke and spilled all over my carpet. There was salad and coffee and moist stuff.
- I was about to clean up the mess when I decided to close the windows… because, you know, Florida is still hot as hell and I was not about to get my sweat on. The crank broke. My bedroom window is being held together by packing tape until my landlord can find a replacement crank (mind you, my apartment was built in the 50s, so this might be impossible), or find a repair person able to make magic happen.
Together, this just takes the cake. I do not want a number five.