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Murphy’s Law Monday

2 Apr

My having a cold, which includes congested ears making everything sound muffled and not quite real, has almost certainly contributed to my problems this morning, because it means I was less mindful than usual.

My plans involved stopping at the nearest supermarket for ginger ale, toilet paper (of which I was almost out), and a cup of coffee and, most urgent, cash back at the register so I would have enough quarters for the laundromat. I couldn’t put off the laundromat any longer if I wanted to wear clean underwear.

I made my purchases at the supermarket, and the annoying problems began at the Starbucks counter.

I have the Starbucks app, which allows you to pay using your smartphone. But I recently purchased a new cell phone, so I wasn’t logged into the Starbucks app, as I discovered at the counter. I started attempted to log in but couldn’t recall my password and let another customer go ahead while I attempted to acquire a new password via either email.

The barista must have served five other customers by the time I was typing in a new password… and repeatedly getting it rejected even though it fit the requirements of eight or more characters including one capital letter and one number.

I paid with cash.

To push my grocery cart with both hands, I placed my tall cup of dirty chai in the small grocery cart. Seconds after I started pushing it, the cup tipped sideways and spilled–and I grabbed it and carried it with one hand while pushing the cart with my other hand all the way to the car. I wasn’t going to carry a grocery bag, two four-packs of ginger ale, and a dirty chai.

I drove straight to the laundromat, parked, and realized I’d forgotten to bring my bag of laundry.

When I went home, I grabbed the bag of laundry and didn’t think to take the groceries inside.

I parked at the laundromat a second time and opened the back gate to get the bottle of detergent. A four-pack of Jamaican ginger beer slipped out of the trunk and landed with a loud pop onto the pavement, shattering one bottle and opening another. At first I stop gasping in horror and in sticky socks, but I was quick enough to pick up the open but unbroken bottle and save maybe a third of the bubbling contents.

The Buddha talked about what is typically translated as “suffering,” an inevitable part of life. But a better translation is “discontent.” Nothing catastrophic happened to me today, but it was certainly a series of unpleasant events. Okay, I didn’t mean that to be a reference to A Series of Unfortunate Events.