Did you hear about the woman who got struck by lightning and blown into the path of a semi while diving to get out from under a meteorite that had been chasing her for three blocks? In the rain?
Well, if you do, it'll probably be me.
My car broke down.
This time it went belly-up in the middle of Mile Long Bridge. Just before midday. In a construction zone. I finally got it started again but it died twice more. The last time I couldn't get it going so I pushed it into a ditch and walked the rest of the way to work, getting there only ten minutes late.
I'd started an hour early so I could eat breakfast.
That was Tuesday. It's still sitting where it finally ended up (on the Walmart lot, fortunately, after I got a call from the Sheriff's Department!) waiting for my nephews to be free to either fix it or help me haul it to a shop (the water pump has apparently come out of the closet and realized its lifelong ambition to be a fountain instead). They were going to help me this morning, but last night their step-father had a stroke.
The curse affects everyone around me!
My brother-in-law is going to be okay, fortunately, and tomorrow the boys are going to help me fix my car, barring unforseen complications (which, frankly, I foresee). Actually, fixing the car is my second choice. My first plan, which I'm still rooting for, is for one of the jets flying training missions out of Whiteman to accidentally drop something big and heavy on it and then for the government to buy me a new car.
Of course, with my luck if they DID drop something, they'd probably miss the car and hit *me*.