Have you heard of Murphy’s law?
I have mentioned it once before on this blog, so I would expect that you have…
The precise wording still remains unclear, but the general interpretation is that everything that can go wrong, does.
Now, I generally stay as meticulous as I possibly can, and try to keep the margin for error so slim that the consequences do not pile up.
However, all it takes is one jolt to put everything way out of order.
I cannot quite trace where this sequence began, but I have been feeling that these days, whenever I try to do something, whatever can go wrong just does.
For instance, every afternoon, I go to play basketball at court significantly far from my home, and between the extreme heat all afternoon and the kids’ training all evening, I get precisely an hour to play.
Now, as it is, my margin for error is already not great. But what can go wrong? Well, apparently, quite a lot…
Sometimes, I will get dressed, put on my socks, and be half a dozen steps from the door, when splash! I step into a pool of fresh, warm pee.
Yeah, our kids are not entirely trained, yet. Have I talked about them earlier? I should.
Now, cleaning it up, then washing my foot, luckily not feet, and changing the socks takes up roughly a quarter of the hour. Significant.
Sometimes when I do not step into pee, my vehicle just refuses to start.
Of course, my vehicle is ancient, so I tend to include a buffer for that. But when it is so broken that I have to go to a mechanic, as I already have twice this week, that is more than 25 minutes easily.
If my vehicle does start after the first few tries, and I get to the court right on time, I should get an entire hour to play, right?
Well, not if it starts to rain with little to no warning. Not enough to actually cool down the scorching streets, of course. No, it will only rain enough to leave the court unplayable for just about an hour.
And, if I do not step in pee, manage to get there on time, and it does not rain, what happens?
Well, a guy manages to jump onto my leg, breaking my knee and leaving me bedridden for over a week.
Now, on the days that a guy does not break my knee, and of course also the day that he does, I will come home drenched in sweat, longing for a nice shower. That is not too much to ask, right?
Considering how often I have stood under the shower with not water raining down on me but the realisation that, well, the tanks are empty, apparently it is.
When the tanks are not empty, I go into the shower, let the water wash over my skin, and just as I am starting to work up a decent lather, the door bell rings. Repeatedly. Incessantly.
Having washed myself as much and as fast as I could have, I come running down the stairs, only to realise that my Dad is indeed home, and has answered it already.
And if this does not happen, my shower is completed without any incident, what happens?
I come out of the shower, a towel draped over my head, leisurely wiping my hair, when I suddenly realise that those are not droplets of water that I feel creeping down my shoulder.
I am, however, a moment too late, as I sense a dozen successive bites across my shoulders and back.
Freaking ants! Sounds ridiculous, right? I mean, what are even the odds?
Already a couple of days have passed since that particular incident, and I still have no clues how those ants ended up in my towel.
Now, in the face of such odds, it would be understandable if one were to grow dejected.
However, I have found that the uplifting words of a great man, one Dr. Ken Jeong, always get me up and running.
Not today, kind sir. Not today.
PS: I have been trying to take a shower for the past 4 hours. It would appear that the odds are against us, tonight…