There was bad karma. And bad vibes. And bad timing.
It was just a very weird, very strange week where things were very much off track.
Early in the week, I could tell that life wasn't going right. I called Christina and asked if she had noticed anything weird about the world.
"I know!!" she agreed. "Something's definitely going on!"
I was glad to hear that I wasn't the only one who was feeling out of kilter.
We shared stories about all of the odd occurrences in our week so far. Christina declared that we were in the wrong lane. She insisted we needed to change lanes in order to change the vibrations in our lives.
I completely agreed.
And I tried. To no avail. The week just continued to be unsettled and eratic.
After 9/11, I declared that I could never be allowed a bad day again. I'm pretty sure I tried to impose this standard on those around me also.
I remember thinking that a bad day in my life wasn't really a bad day. A day in my life might entail a bit of inconvenience or frustration or disappointment. But how could I ever really have a bad day if I started the day at home and returned home at the day's end? The threshold test seemed clear.
For months I inflicted my joie de vivre on those around me. It's not that I walked around spouting "at least you're alive" gospel, but that certainly was my sentiment and I tried to make sure that people felt it.
The problem is that life's a rollercoaster. Each day is different. And it's difficult to maintain the same high level of happiness and energy each and every moment. Especially when other people introduce their messed up - or unique - realities into your life.
I've always wondered about these folks who live in year round fair weather. These folks who complain about missing the seasons. Are they for real? Does one really and truly tire of beautiful weather. Is experiencing a crappy winter actually necessary in helping one to enjoy the freshness of spring?
Perhaps I'm naive, but I really do think I could enjoy year round beauty and sun. I sincerely believe I could love waking up to warm temperatures each and every day.
I didn't want to have a difficult week. But I didn't fight it either. When it became apparent that things were off track, I agreed to just go along for the ride. In my life, fighting the forces invariably makes things worse.
But the week's over. And I'm so very relieved.
I celebrated the week's end last night with barely enough energy to stop by Subway on my way home. I hesitated to go in. I thought my half-open eyes made me look kind of drunk.
My two favorite ladies were working last night: Maria and Rosario. They were happy to see me. I was happy to see them. We talked about their children and Maria's sister and Maria's sister's estranged husband. Me in my feeble Spanish and they in their better English.
Maria is on vacation next week. She has 136 hours of vacation, but she's only taking one week. She'll stay at home and work her second job only. She's very excited.
Maria cleans houses with her cousin. I told her I'd be happy if she'd clean my house. She smiled and nodded. We arranged a time.
I went home and shared half of my sub with Boo. He gets the meat. I get everything else. Then we both fell asleep.
This wasn't a particularly happy week. And it wasn't really a fun week. But I'll still never say it was a bad week.
When you've got the luxury of sharing Subway and a nap with your favorite feline, in my book it's still all relative.