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It seems as though each new day brings about another new issue or irritation for society, or at least myself, to deal with.
Just the other day, I purchased a cutting board. I didn’t realize until I was home and ready to use it that the instructions on the back read, “Do not use as a cutting board.” For cryin’ out loud, what else was I supposed to use it for? I felt as though I had spent $36 for a piece of firewood.
The price of stamps went up again, but my letters appear to be arriving later than expected, if at all.
Magazines are so expensive these days that I shop for them at the dump’s onsite swap shed, where they’re free. I don’t mind reading 12-year-old publications if it means saving $9 each time. I just wish they got better with time, kinda like Scotch.
My neighbor’s toddler has a better cell phone than I do and even knows how to navigate it like a tech pro. I’m still trying to figure out how to use the camera’s flash.
I love living in western North Carolina, but I can’t seem to get away from “Murphy’s Law.”
Murphy’s Law’s exact origin is debated; however, it’s generally thought it originated from someone named Murphy. He and his guys had some sort of mishap during rocket sled tests in 1948-49, and ever since then Murphy’s Law is used to justify daily failures and letdowns. If it can go wrong, it will, was the thinking that was birthed that festive day.
However, this guy’s rocket sled project was doomed from its beginning, as everyone knows a sleigh going that fast is bound to crash and burn. Why did his verified lack of judgment have to cost the rest of society daily frustration?
Just the other day, I tried to vacuum the living room when “Snarls Von Idiot,” our cat, decided to peruse the vacuum’s path. Of course, it sucked up his tail, and I had to deal with that horrific mess – not to mention all the fur that flew around in the room I had just cleaned.
Paper towels don’t tear correctly on their perforations, a tiny buzzing creature burrowed holes in my wooden home and I got a ticket for an expired tag on my car. I say that because some of the same vehicles in town consistently drive around without license plates, but I’m the one who gets a ticket (I’m just venting ... of course).
I wake up each morning on the right side of the bed, but by the end of the evening I feel as though I’m crawling into the wrong side, as my day seemed to be fraught with frustrations.
My Uncle Vinny rears his dopey head just when I think I’ve had enough. With my uncle, if something can go wrong, it will, but his mishaps, lack of judgment and general aura usually affect those around him, never himself. He’s the epitome of Murphy’s Law, only with a bad haircut and cloud of gas surrounding him.
Tomorrow’s a new day, filled with hopes of carefree moments. At least, that was the thought on my mind before I drifted off to sleep two nights ago. That dream ended in horror as I fell outta bed at 3 a.m. waking me up from my peaceful, yet fleeting slumber.
The knot on my head will go away, but I feel that the “Murphy” thing is here to stay – forever and ever. So is Uncle Vinny.
Anngee Quinones-Belian lives in Murphy. She loves humor and believes the world needs more of it. Email her at anngeeq@gmail.com.