Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Universe has a twisted sense of humor


I’m always laughing that the universe is out to get me. Nothing terribly tragic ever happens, but my life is like a series of bad jokes.


If I get dressed up in a snazzy outfit to go out, before I can even leave the house Jack will trip over his own feet, his beverage will defy gravity and fly out of his cup (why is there no lid on his cup!?!) over his head and splash me where I’m standing 22 feet behind him.
I'm always running late and I'm always in a hurry. ALWAYS. If you see me out somewhere, no matter what, I'm late to something and should have been somewhere else ten minutes ago.  And of course, the one time I'm truly, seriously in a hurry - like say when my 80 pound lab busted open my eyelid with his dewclaw and I needed to get the hospital to get stitches - then someone will break down on the side of the road, the latch on their livestock trailer will come undone by some unseen force and there will be 18 cows grazing on the median which will have traffic completely stopped.

I have had an old man's dentures shoot out of his mouth and smack me in the back of the head at work, only to be left with this sticky gooey denture resin mess in my hair. I have been hit on at the gynecologist's office by a woman.  I saw some random fat husky kid wandering around the health department with tap shoes on.  The universe must really get my sense of humor.

 I can laugh all that off though. It’s actually part of what makes my life so much fun and so entertaining for you, Dear Readers, but now, oh now the universe has gone too far.  
Yesterday I received the first of 4 calls - yes 4 - phone calls from a mental health hospital. Why? You ask. Because one of their patients (a random person that I do not know) has listed my cell phone number as contact information on all of his paperwork.
Joy.

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