Is is still Friday the 13th?
It must be. Seriously.
I’ve never been one to buy into the ‘Friday the 13th’ moggly joggly, but the past two days just defy anti-superstition.
Consider the evidence before you, my friends:
– embarking on the trip from Byron to Nimbin – where I was all pumped to present a workshop for women on Life and Laughter – only to have our car break down en route, completely with hubbster and kids in the car. $103. – running out of credit on our phone. $20. – finding out – only after we had managed to score a ride back to Bangalow – that Tim had taken it upon himself to keep Caleb entertained by handing him possession of his mobile phone, whereupon Caleb had taken it upon himself to throw it: “IN THE DIRTY GRASS”. $80. – finally scoring a cab ride to Nimbin. $120. – receiving a phone call from the Passports Office, telling me that one of my photos is damaged, makes me look like I have a scar on my lips and thus my passport has been delayed (again) and I have to bring in new photos ASAP. $14. – getting back to the workshop to pick up our car, only to find the initial $103 quote didn’t quite cover the myriad of turdships in the ocean of our vehicle. $140. – driving back today to Brisbane, only to break down. In the middle of nowhere. Again. $100. – being mid crisis-call, only to have our phone run out of credit. Again. $20. – realising that our car is now completely foo-bahed, not worth fixing and thereby paying a tow-truck driver to bring us all back to Brisbane. $200.
But being able to blog about it and thus open the possibility of the past two days of pain being tax-deductible?