: the black cloud :

Like a billion other people in the world, I did laundry last week. Of those billion, I was one of, maybe, three who screwed it up. Laundry isn’t difficult, you know, a sensible 8-year old can do it. But me? I get outsmarted by a washing machine.

Somehow, when I transferred a load of clothes from the washer to the dryer, I overlooked a light gray cotton turtleneck. It was squashed against the front of the wash tub. Being oblivious to this lurking garment, I went ahead and added bleach for the upcoming load of whites. And that’s when I noticed the turtleneck, just as the bleach splashed into the wash tub.

I snatched the shirt out of there, examined it thoroughly, and saw no evidence of bleach spots. Until I pulled it out of the dryer. My once light gray shirt had a spray of ivory spots dotting the left sleeve, body, and right shoulder. It’s a whole new look, sort of a Jackson Pollock thing. A look that says, ‘I need a keeper.’

On Sunday, the earpiece of my glasses broke off. Now both of them are taped and I look like every other nerd in the world. Heavy eyeglasses bound together with white adhesive tape sitting slightly awry on a bewildered face above a bleach-splattered turtleneck. It’s a pretty picture, isn’t it?

But it doesn’t end there. No. Tonight my desk chair, which I was sitting on, listed heavily to the right and collapsed. There was no warning, no screech of metal, no shudder signaling imminent danger. It just quietly dumped me on the floor and I write this sitting on a plastic storage container. At some point I expect the lid to give way and trap me inside the thing, so if this post ends abruptly, that’s why.

Folks, I’m in the midst of a protracted bad luck streak. Seven and a half years, if you must know. That’s not as bad as Job, he of the boils and Biblical suffering, but it’s plenty bad enough. With all candor, I’m beginning to fear for my safety. I’m afraid to use my car or the sharp scissors or even take a shower. Heck, the bathroom is a death trap, it’s where most accidents happen.

So, if it’s all the same to you, I’m just going to sit here quie

copyright © 2017 the whirly girl

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18 Responses to “: the black cloud :”

  1. Eileen Riley

    I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I was deliriously happy to read this post. I thought everyone in the world had attended the ‘how to cope with life’ class but me. And my husband. We just spent a month in the dark because the light in the downstairs shower room stopped working. We changed the bulb. Nothing. We then spent four weeks thinking that the other one was going to call someone to come fix whatever was wrong with it. All the while in the dark. Until our daughter announced that she was putting herself up for adoption if something wasn’t done, soon. So, I called the electrician. I waited in all day. He came around, did some test with a little machine, announced power was reaching the socket, went into his bag, pulled out a light bulb, inserted it and ‘Lo, there was light’. Seriously, we were in the dark for a month because we didn’t change a light bulb properly. But, I have to point out, I only have ONE eyeglass earpiece taped.

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    • publikworks

      I feel so close to you right now.

      Thank you for sharing your light bulb adventure, Eileen, I loved it. Who knew these things happened to other people? I thought it was just me. Hooray for the taped earpiece people!

      Like

  2. Prudy

    Bummer, Lisa. I pray the long streak of bad luck passes shortly and the job offers come fast and furious. As for this recent run of bad luck…it comes in threes…so your good to go. Let us everyone say a prayer for Lisa, please. Thank you. Hugs to you, Lisa, and to old Bart. Prudy

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  3. clownonfire

    “Any fool can have bad luck; the art consists in knowing how to exploit it.” – Frank Wedekind

    By no means are you a fool. A compelling writer, if anything.

    I’m also stuck with this segment: ” Laundry isn’t difficult, you know, a sensible 8-year old can do it.”. My son’s turning 8 this year. I’m reading him your post….. Inspirational.

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    • publikworks

      You’re too kind, thank you, clown. About your son, though: could I hire him to do my laundry? That would be cheaper than replacing the clothes I keep ruining. Let me know if he’s available.

      Like

  4. the home tome

    ha ha! nice ending :) I think that turtleneck might actually be your lucky ticket: by all means put that thing on right now!! You can start a new trend The Pollaneck or the Pollneck – there’s your next million. :)

    Like

    • publikworks

      I tried. No one saw the the unique, totally hip style, they saw a clumsy doofus in a badly laundered top. One woman sneered at me knowingly. If only the bleach spots were red or blue.

      Like

  5. O. Leonard

    Got my morning laugh in, albeit at your expense. Did you break a mirror? I’ve broken two in the last few months. I’m doomed.

    I always tell my wife the machine does the laundry, you just fold it. I guess I’m wrong. She had a T-shirt on the other day, what she called a “work shirt” which had Jackson Pollock like white streaks on the back. LOL

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    • publikworks

      That makes my day. I’m happy you got a laugh, len : )

      I wondered about that; did I break a mirror? If I did, I don’t remember it. Besides, isn’t there a statute of limitations, like five years of bad luck? Can these things be (gasp) permanent?

      Like

  6. janusjustis

    Are you my long-lost sister? It’s rare when I DON’T screw up a load of laundry in one way or another! One good thing that’s come out it – nobody asks me if they can ‘throw something in’ with my wash anymore. Even my kids don’t ask me to do their wash anymore. If something can shrink, fade, run, tear or generally get mangled – I can manage it. Maybe I should start reading directions?

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    • publikworks

      Hi, janus! It’s frustrating, isn’t it?

      I tried reading the direction once, they confused me. I should just surrender and start dropping my clothes off at a laundry service. I can’t afford it, but I can’t afford to keep buying new clothes, either. I wish I had an answer for you. Maybe we’re missing a laundry gene? Thank you for stopping by to commiserate.

      Like

  7. Lenore Diane

    I hate that I’m laughing, Lisa. Honest. First, the fact that you lost a turtleneck to bleach … you know my love of turtlenecks. I wish you posted a disclaimer – alerting me of the demise, prior to me getting emotionally involved with a gray turtleneck.
    Second, the visual of the taped glasses (we’ve done that to our 5yr old, for the record) … Third the chair … and then the plastic container.

    Well. At least your laptop is working, right? Um. Your laptop is working, right?

    Here’s hoping the jet stream sweeps the dark clouds away – like now.

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    • publikworks

      I love that you’re laughing, LD! That gives me hope, all is not lost.

      I’m happy to report that my laptop is, indeed, working. It’s computing its little heart out. Knock on wood. The week’s casualties are limited to my eyeglasses, my desk chair, that poor disfigured t-neck, and the lid on my storage container. It’s all bent out of shape!

      About the jet stream? Thank you for the good wishes, Lenore, I need them.

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  8. Angie Z.

    Ah, I love the sitting on a plastic storage container thing. I happen to have a turtleneck that I splashed bleach on years ago. Still wear it under a jacket on occasion. I was getting ready to give stuff to a shelter and I saw that shirt and figured I finally needed to get rid of it. Then I decided not even a homeless person would want it. But those glasses of yours? I think many people would be happy to have those. Especially Lewis Skolnick.

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    • publikworks

      Oh, man, the storage container made me nervous. The locking mechanism kept popping open and my arms would shoot out. It was nerve-wracking. My glasses, well, they’re in a sorry state. I scratched my head today and an ear piece fell off on the floor. In Target. Not my proudest moment. Even so, I’m keeping them, sorry Lewis.

      Like

  9. suzymarie56

    Oh my goodness, I feel awful laughing whilst you are going through a bad luck phase…but this is HILARIOUS. Your writing makes me laugh so. You are fabulous!

    Like

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