Thursday, August 02, 2007

Murphy's Law Is Ruling My Life

It's a truism of life that when things all START going wrong at once, they tend to KEEP going wrong for quite a while before it all starts turning back around at once. ANY DAY NOW my universe wants to go back to normal is okay with me.

My husband and I have been testing our marriage in one of the traditional ways: Home improvements we're not particularly qualified to do. In our case, a new screen/storm door. (He keeps calling it a "glass" door and I have to keep explaining that a glass door is like a French door to your patio or something, whereas the door that goes in front of your front door is a STORM door or a SCREEN door depending on the season. He thinks this is stupid.) Our old door was a) ugly and b) not functioning in any fashion like a DOOR. It didn't latch, the full-length glass insert was held in by just two brackety things (should have had 8 to 10) so the glass swung relatively free, it didn't even up with the door hole so it didn't insulate (even if the glass had been in properly) and it had no screen insert. We couldn't actually leave the front door open ever (not that there's much point without a screen) because Grey Cat knew how to push the storm door open since it didn't latch. Sometimes wind would just blow it open for funsies and scare the crap out of us.

Anyway, we bought this uber-door at Menard's and it all went really well until we got to the latching part, which is NOT GOING WELL AT ALL and if it won't latch, there was no point to replacing the crappy old one. Very frustrating. I can SEE the screen but I can't USE the screen. It's sitting there all tantalizing me and stuff, not latching.

(Grey Cat thinks this is the best project ever and keeps trying to escape. Orange Cat just LOOKS at him, because the food lives INSIDE and only morons want to go outside.)

Amid all this door trauma, I received a piece of Amish-made furniture I had ordered which MY MAIL PERSON BROKE. At least, I am forced to assume it was my mail person. The one who hates mail. The one who routinely drops or throws packages on my steps despite knowing I work at home. The one who has necessitated return upon return of things we ordered because she destroyed them. The one who THREW HARRY POTTER AT MY DOOR WHEN SHE COULD SEE ME SITTING OUTSIDE AT MY NEIGHBOR'S GARAGE SALE AND HAD JUST SAID HI TO ME.

Do you know how much work it takes to break a piece of utilitarian Amish-made furniture? It's built like a Mack truck. So I've finally complained. Probably she should not have destroyed expensive furniture during Murphy's Law week. I can't take it anymore.

Otherwise, my inbox is overflowing, I'm out of clean laundry, my cupboards are Mother Hubbard bare, and the Secretary of State wants to charge me obscene amounts of money to renew my plates (of COURSE that bill comes during Murphy's Law week). And yesterday I'm trying to find something to eat for lunch, realize the lettuce in my fridge has gone bad, and get myself in a snit over it. It wasn't until I went to bed that night that it dawned on me that I've got a whole row of lettuce that's just come up in my garden and I could have made myself a salad if I'd just thought for a second.

So I'm feeling a little sulky. Any time you want to do a U-Turn, universe! ANY TIME NOW!

ADDENDUM: Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap. In the 30 minutes since I posted, I got ink pen on my new clothes AND discovered I have to go to the DMV.

3 comments:

anon e. mouse said...

"My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled."

Chef Kevin said...

maybe Monday isn't good... :)

(inside joke to the rest of you...)

Cory said...

You should see the awesome picture from my visit to the DMV at the end of June. I was out until, oh, about 630 AM the night before, and had to be at the DMV before noon. It's actually one of the most horrifying things I've ever seen.