Baker’s Hours

Just when I thought that I had made it through a new year’s eve without something happening, I find out about this. Apparently, when I was at my aunt’s house ringing in the new year with my family, the driver’s side mirror on my car was smashed.

Anyone who knows me will confirm that they can tell when I’m “medicated” because of the way that I’m slightly off kilter. Because of this, my family and I decided that it wouldn’t be safe for me to drive while the doctors’ have me on muscle relaxers and pain medication. So, because I don’t drive my car, I didn’t know about the cracked mirror until my dad told me about it today.

To be honest, I wasn’t really that shocked. I had spent the entire new year’s eve waiting for something to happen. For a short while, when my cousin Dustin lit up the sky above my aunt’s house with his best fireworks display to date, I had forgotten about my string of bad luck.

After I got home, I spent some time on Twitter exchanging happy new year tweets with my friends, and more than a few of them congratulated me on the end of my curse. I was still skeptical, but they convinced my that my being on worker’s compensation, and my various health issues were problems I was already having before new year’s eve, and as such didn’t count. I almost started to believe it.

So, my streak of new year’s eve bad luck stretches to six years. I just hope that this broken mirror doesn’t mean that I’m in for another 7-years of bad luck.

Song stuck in my head at the time of this post: Born Under a Bad Sign by Albert King