Good evening to you, Officer

I am not a superstitious person. Which is why when I dropped a mirror a little over a week ago (it fell right into the trash can and broke), I didn't think anything of it. Then I proceeded to have the worst week ever. So, naturally, I think about the mirror all the time. Here's a sampling of my bad luck.

SNOW: No one really told me that it never stops snowing in Cleveland. Not that I would have turned down the job I wanted on account of incessant inclement weather, but come on, snow every day for months? Having gotten stuck twice the night before, I backed out of my driveway to head to work on Monday morning and ended up stuck in the mound of snow left by my snow removal service. Which was awesome. And so a couple of co-workers came to push me out, which took about ten seconds. Also awesome. And when I say awesome I mean humiliating. But really, I couldn't have pushed MYSELF out. I could go on and on about the havoc this weather wreaks on me and my sporty Accord. We slip, we slide, we can't get out of the driveway or back in on some nights. Every day on my commute in, there are cars lining the medians, the empty spaces between the freeway and the express lanes, even the driving lanes themselves, who have spun out of control in the snow and ice. And so we go slow. Me and my Accord.

DRAMA: Then unfolded the drama I alluded to in my previous post. I will not explain anything here, suffice it to say it sucks to be me, but what baffles me about said drama is that it happened in the first place. I lead a simple life, especially on the boy front, so to find myself in the middle of two rather awkwardly painful situations was as fascinating as it was frustrating. I still get calls daily from local friends who have just heard and who want to tell me what they know, and new pieces of information are still surfacing that thicken the plot...if that even applies, considering that the plot has already happened.

PIPES: We enjoyed a lovely bout of -10 degree weather last week. It didn't bother me nearly as much as the snow until I came home on Friday night to find I had no water. That's right, people. Even if you heat your house, even if you walk around the basement and can't understand how anything down there would be cold enough to FREEZE THROUGH, it will. Namely, the main water pipe. Frozen solid. For those who wonder what one does when faced with this dilemma, I'll tell you. First, you call the city and hope it's not just you and your pipes that have a problem. Second, you get creative with waste disposal. Third, you fall in love with the plumber as in a matter of seconds he has restored the water flow.

BLOOD: Always a fan of blood donation, although I hate, hate, hate it as I'm doing it, today's experience was perhaps my worst yet. The problems started when the person who would be taking my blood ended up being the scary looking older woman with dyed hair and too much makeup and whom I highly suspected of being inebriated. She was insane. I immediately began trying to get rid of her by explaining as she poked around my arm that my vein is tiny and that it always takes me a long time to finish. Bingo. She called over her supervisor, whose blood alcohol level I felt more comfortable with, and said she didn't want to do me. The supervisor was a gem, but my vein wasn't cooperating, and as she fiddled with the needle, moving it constantly, I began to lose it. As I was battling to stay conscious, the man in charge of the blood drive (a black man sitting in the back of the room) shouted over to me, "Don't cross your legs, sister. Open your eyes, sister." And I think what I said was, "Obama?" followed closely by, "Praise the Lord. We're saved." But then I came to and still had a needle in my arm. Bottom line, after a very long time, a lot of pain, and only half a pint, the gem of a supervisor called it. She sent me away with an ice pack, which confused me, as I thought the ice was to help stop the bleeding, clearly not my problem at all. "Why?" I asked when she offered the pack. "So you don't look like you've been hit by a truck." Um...I didn't know that was a possible outcome of donating blood. But thanks.

POLICE: Then I got pulled over on the way home from work. True that I had been following a semi VERY closely. But that's because I was preparing to pass him. I would have just passed him already, but all the semis get over into the left lane at about that same spot so they can take an exit, and I was afraid that the moment I decided to pass would be the same moment he decided to get over. After winding down my window, here's how it went down:
Officer: You ever heard of the two-second rule?
Me: Was I following that truck too closely? I was getting ready to pass him, but I wasn't sure what he was going to do.
Officer: Well I was behind you for a mile and I didn't see you move back at all.
Me: I know. I just didn't know what he was going to do.
Officer: Do you have your license?
Me: Of course.
Officer: Where you headed?
Me: Home.
Officer: Where's that? Oregon?
Me: No. I work for Avery Dennison.
Officer: When did you move here?
Me: June.
Officer: (shakes his head and laughs) Give me a minute. (walks back to his car)

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Officer: (hands me back my license) I've got to book. Take it easy.

And he then sped off and away toward some other more offending citizen. So I suppose the fact that I got out of not only tailgating but also not registering my car in Ohio might in fact prove that my luck is changing. For my sanity's sake, one can only hope.