I've mentioned to several people how I view my luck in life. I'm going to try here to explain without sounding too pessimistic, because I don't want to come off that way. I'm really just realistic about my 'luck in life.'
I'm certainly not a lucky person. I don't ever win drawings or free things.
But at the same time, I can't complain of having ferocious bad luck. Because, well let's be honest, it's not like ever time I drive somewhere I get in a crash, or that I just happen to step in every wad of gum that sticks to my shoe or pothole that makes me trip. Or that if there is a 1 in 50,000 chance of some bad thing happening, it will happen to me. And I've never been directly struck with lightning, attacked by a rabid animal, or personally targeted by a mass terrorist group.
Rather, luck is just not present in my life. Whenever things could go really well, they don't. Whenever I have the chance to win something, I won't. Very often I do run into the 'bad luck' sorts of situations (or at least more than I think my fair share). But I can also have moments of pseudo-good luck.
Take, for instance, just a couple weeks ago. I was at the BYU Housing fair. There were lots of opportunities to win free things, in activities and drawings, and etc. Wandering around with a friend, we both filled them all out, but I had no hopes of winning any (it just doesn't happen). When, what do you know, a place that I remembered was giving away an ipod called me and said I won! Excited, I stopped by the next day to pick up my winnings- only to find out that they had two drawings: an ipod and a $10 gift card to Brick Oven. Guess which one I won? The gift card of course. Guess who actually won the ipod? My friend.
So, I can't say that I suffer from horrible 'bad luck' and never win anything, but of course, ironically, when I do rarely win things, it's never going to be the amazing 'luck of the devil' things.
Basically, Luck avoids me. I think he's too frightened off by Irony, who doesn't understand the meaning of a personal bubble.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Another one of those days...
So today was, unfortunately, a normal 'me-day.'
I'll guide you through a brief snippet of roughly 15 minutes, so you may understand.
You are rushing across campus to your 6th class of the day in too-big shoes.
You just got out of your last class late, having waited for several precious 'rush-minutes' in order to get your graded paper back. Unfortunately, all you got was the words that you wouldn't get your paper back with the others in the class because "the TA gave you a perfect grade." So, of course, the teacher must think the TA is blind, or graded your test whilst he was asleep or on hallucinogens or possessed by a hippo, or encountered some other difficulty that would cause him to have mistakenly given perfect marks. No way do you actually deserve a perfect grade. So, as the responsible and sensible person she is, the professor must sink her claws into your hard-earned A. She'll look over your paper herself, pick it apart, and return it to you with a shaky C.
With a sigh that's more of a gasp because of your quick pace, you try not to knock into all the other students that have deciding to enjoy the lovely 35° drizzle at a sedate pace. Whilst traveling from the previous disappointment to another class of certain enjoyment, your phone begins to ring loudly. You stumble, trying to pull it from your backpack pocket without dropping your umbrella or extra armload of dance gear. Miraculously managing to extricate it, you put it to your ear as the caller hangs up. Lovely.
You look at the CID and recognize it as your ride to an appointment later that day. Dreading what the call could mean, you redial as you again head toward your now-late-for-certain class.
Guess why that dear friend was calling? Wouldn't it just be lovely if they wanted to call and wish you a good day and promise a package of coconut M&Ms when they pick you up later? Well, whether it would be lovely or not, their actual message was to inform you that they can no longer give you a ride. Of course. Because how could your day get better than it now is?
But wait- you still aren't to that class. The fun isn't yet over. In the middle of assuring your friend that you bear no hard feelings, and thanks for being willing anyhow, you trip... over nothing. That happens a lot. This time, your phone goes flying across the sidewalk and into a puddle where both the case, the cover, and the battery separate like three negative ends of a magnet. Meanwhile your umbrella catches on another person (who pleasantly sends you a death glare) and stabs you in the side as you land hard on one knee.
At least you didn't face-plant.
And like an armored vehicle transporting goods on a cop show, you're still not safe because you're still en route. Having collected all your gear, you finally enter the science building that houses your classroom. Or, at least, you try.
A taller version of Frankie Muniz is chatting up some little blond in the doorway. Unwilling to move yet, he half-opens the door (which swings in) for you as you come barreling towards it. He props it open with his arm above his head and, after attempting a little 'oh, I've got it, or okay, nevermind, thank you' dance, you finally duck awkwardly under his arm and between the couple. But apparently that blond really has some hypnotic eyes because, within the 2 seconds before you're all the way through, the 'gentleman' removes arm and the heavy door swings shut.
Of course, you are foolishly thinking that the thoughtful Frankie was going to deal with the door, so you have your attention on putting your phone back together and folding up your dripping umbrella.
Wise move.
The heavy door charges toward you and catches you roughly on the elbow. Your arm is bruised, your is face red as some science nerd chuckles at you, and your phone is once again all over the ground.
After gathering your armload together, (it's a habit by now) you finally, miraculously, gloriously, reach your classroom and plop gracelessly into a chair. You're 10mins late, you've missed the quiz and your teacher gives you a dirty look. But at least you can sit (safely?) for 40 minutes before you are forced to brave the world again.
Isn't life an adventure? It's so much fun to be me.
I'll guide you through a brief snippet of roughly 15 minutes, so you may understand.
You are rushing across campus to your 6th class of the day in too-big shoes.
You just got out of your last class late, having waited for several precious 'rush-minutes' in order to get your graded paper back. Unfortunately, all you got was the words that you wouldn't get your paper back with the others in the class because "the TA gave you a perfect grade." So, of course, the teacher must think the TA is blind, or graded your test whilst he was asleep or on hallucinogens or possessed by a hippo, or encountered some other difficulty that would cause him to have mistakenly given perfect marks. No way do you actually deserve a perfect grade. So, as the responsible and sensible person she is, the professor must sink her claws into your hard-earned A. She'll look over your paper herself, pick it apart, and return it to you with a shaky C.
With a sigh that's more of a gasp because of your quick pace, you try not to knock into all the other students that have deciding to enjoy the lovely 35° drizzle at a sedate pace. Whilst traveling from the previous disappointment to another class of certain enjoyment, your phone begins to ring loudly. You stumble, trying to pull it from your backpack pocket without dropping your umbrella or extra armload of dance gear. Miraculously managing to extricate it, you put it to your ear as the caller hangs up. Lovely.
You look at the CID and recognize it as your ride to an appointment later that day. Dreading what the call could mean, you redial as you again head toward your now-late-for-certain class.
Guess why that dear friend was calling? Wouldn't it just be lovely if they wanted to call and wish you a good day and promise a package of coconut M&Ms when they pick you up later? Well, whether it would be lovely or not, their actual message was to inform you that they can no longer give you a ride. Of course. Because how could your day get better than it now is?
But wait- you still aren't to that class. The fun isn't yet over. In the middle of assuring your friend that you bear no hard feelings, and thanks for being willing anyhow, you trip... over nothing. That happens a lot. This time, your phone goes flying across the sidewalk and into a puddle where both the case, the cover, and the battery separate like three negative ends of a magnet. Meanwhile your umbrella catches on another person (who pleasantly sends you a death glare) and stabs you in the side as you land hard on one knee.
At least you didn't face-plant.
And like an armored vehicle transporting goods on a cop show, you're still not safe because you're still en route. Having collected all your gear, you finally enter the science building that houses your classroom. Or, at least, you try.
A taller version of Frankie Muniz is chatting up some little blond in the doorway. Unwilling to move yet, he half-opens the door (which swings in) for you as you come barreling towards it. He props it open with his arm above his head and, after attempting a little 'oh, I've got it, or okay, nevermind, thank you' dance, you finally duck awkwardly under his arm and between the couple. But apparently that blond really has some hypnotic eyes because, within the 2 seconds before you're all the way through, the 'gentleman' removes arm and the heavy door swings shut.
Of course, you are foolishly thinking that the thoughtful Frankie was going to deal with the door, so you have your attention on putting your phone back together and folding up your dripping umbrella.
Wise move.
The heavy door charges toward you and catches you roughly on the elbow. Your arm is bruised, your is face red as some science nerd chuckles at you, and your phone is once again all over the ground.
After gathering your armload together, (it's a habit by now) you finally, miraculously, gloriously, reach your classroom and plop gracelessly into a chair. You're 10mins late, you've missed the quiz and your teacher gives you a dirty look. But at least you can sit (safely?) for 40 minutes before you are forced to brave the world again.
Isn't life an adventure? It's so much fun to be me.
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