When I began this blog, the song “Something Happened On the Way to Heaven” by Phil Collins immediately popped into my head.

No joke—I huddled up in the cozy, worn driver’s seat of my car for a quick, yet obviously efficient writing sesh, and BAM! “…how can something so good go so bad…” starts banging around inside the ol’ lockbox.

And it hit me…something might have happened to me on the way to metaphorical Heaven (re: life). Something wholly cosmic and almost certainly not of my doing, at least not consciously.

Allow me to explain:

I don’t practice tarot cards on the regular or buy crystals by the barrel, but I do believe in the otherworldly concepts of divination. However, I also believe that as human beings we are strictly forbidden to know what the future holds or even offered the smallest sliver of insight into our existence, but that’s a topic for another day. Maybe. I could probably roll a mention into this blog post seamlessly if I try hard enough.

Wait a minute…wink

I digress.

I merely wish to share that seeking out answers to your life’s biggest questions through pretty rocks and mass-printed playing cards isn’t a crime. So yes, I indulge myself here and there and take small comforts away from it and…that’s that.

Yet, when I compare (ugh, this the worst word in the English dictionary) the ebbs and flows of my life to others, I see a strange pattern emerge: unluckiness. Unlucky in the sense that the silliest, smallest things happen to me more than anyone I know. Unlucky in the ‘possibly cursed by some sort of witch’ kind of way; think black cats and ladders, or breaking mirrors. That’s the brand of unlucky I’m going with for the sake of this blog.

A visual guide, if I may: imagine a little black raincloud, personalized with my name in fluffy letters etched into it, hovering and ever present. Beneath it, there’s a nerdy smiling girl waving and probably being too kind to literally everyone she knows (absolutely ZERO wrong with being too kind, for the record).

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to give off such a strong “woe is me” tone, rather what I mean to say runs more along the lines of “what the actual fuck, did that really just happen?!” kind of life-vibe.

*Examples: *

  • If the weather is lousy, it’ll rain HEAPS the moment I arrive at a destination, versus the pleasant light rain during the travel itself. And of course I have no less that 5-10 heavy bags to carry in at that exact second.
  • I’ll walk a mile from my car and realize I forgot the thing I put specifically in my trunk to not forget it.
  • I’ve been stalked or followed by murdery-looking men at least four times…and while this may be the seedy underbelly to unluckiness on the whole, I take it as my having a sort of dark beacon attached.
  • I’ll be the one who steps in shit while looking to avoid stepping into shit.
  • Don’t get me started on getting stuck in traffic. I’ll leave early almost 98% of the time and yes, I’ll be late because traffic is the devil’s past time.
  • And so on and so forth…

To me though, the biggest cosmic middle-finger salute is this: I try my hardest at X, Y and Z and 0 success seems to be the current going rate. Yet someone will attempt XYZ once and they’re on the cover of “best person ever” magazine four weeks running. Boggles my mind.

Or perhaps this gem: I have been passed over, screwed over, betrayed (over?) by some of the closest people to me and yet, they live the “good life” with no shit-stained shoes or sopping wet hair.

Wouldn’t it be just desserts for the situations to be the other way around? Or not exist at all? I simply don’t understand how the universe works (and am not allowed to, remember, because: human).

I know, I sound embittered and my few listed reasons, now looking at them, are ridiculously lame, whiny and easily debunked, but I swear to you, that cloud exists.

I suppose I don’t really want to know why the universe lightly picks on me and yeah ok, hashtag first world problems, but sometimes the things that happen are far too blatantly “fuck you, J” too ignore. Perhaps this is why these things occur to me more than others—because I notice it, or go so far as to seek it out unknowingly, but it’s real and it does get depressing at times.

And yet…

If I take a giant leap back and look at my life on the whole, it is the most beautiful thing; I’ve been with A for nearly 10 years, Bella has been with A and I for nearly 7.5 of those, we have a lovely ‘lil townhouse in a Pennsylvanian suburb, I’m incredibly close with my parents, my sister, brother-in-law and niece, I have a handful of extended family I’d both die and kill for (this applies to everyone in this paragraph) and my health seems to be A-ok.

What more could a person ask for?

Well, sure, I want a new car (actually need this one), a haircut and dye, new wardrobe, camera gear and blah blah blah. But it’s all aesthetics and frivolity beyond what I truly possess. My family, my friends—I don’t need to be wealthy to have wealth.

In the end, how about I agree to stop poking the cloud and simply ignore it. How about I pay less attention to the silly negatives and all my attention the beaming positives. How about I cease talking about life not being perfect and actually accept the fact that life is not fucking perfect.

How about I just listen to Phil when he asks:* Please, believe in me.*

Conversation starter:
Can you else relate to this? Write me about the silliest, unluckiest things so we can commiserate together and then smack ourselves for being idiots! 😉