Bad Luck.

Bizarrely, it always seems to happen this way. I find myself in a place where I seem to be buffeted by one displeasing situation after another, and I assure myself that things must be taking a turn for the better soon. Surely that’s enough now. And then something else bad happens. It gets to the point where I give in to it and start assuming a pessimistic attitude. Until, completely unexpectedly, everything suddenly works out. Usually all at once. I will have several strokes of luck in the one day, and circumstances that I was unable to imagine any solution for are not only solved, but improved beyond what I originally wanted.

Before I go on, let me clarify. I am being somewhat melodramatic. I am a melodramatic person. When I talk about having an extended run of bad luck, I’m talking about the frustrating sort of bad luck that hampers one’s comfortable existence. The sort of bad luck that, were it just one instance, wouldn’t be so bad, but weighs you down when you are accosted by it ten times in one week. The sort of bad luck that leaves you feeling defeated and wailing “Why isn’t anything going right?!” at a glass of wine. The sort of bad luck that could have been avoided by thinking ahead or approaching a situation differently (and is most likely, if you’re brutally honest with yourself, all your own goddamn fault). The sort of bad luck that you are able to laugh about a few weeks later. Not the sort of beyond-your-control bad luck that destroys you. I’m not about to make light of that.

So anyway. I was recently victim of this inconvenient-but-ultimately-bearable-in-small-doses kind of bad luck. Until today, apparently. And hopefully this upswing will continue, because I don’t enjoy being pessimistic. Being cranky prevented me from being distracted by the random quiet beauties of the world. I am renowned for being a frustrating companion for walking down the street, because I will occasionally meander to one side of the footpath or the other, depending on what catches my eye, then inexplicably disappear from your side because I stopped twenty metres ago, to stare intently at a leaf or a cat or the clouds. But when I feel tense, I focus inwards instead of outwards. I allow myself to get caught in the current of people striding to their destination with their heads down. Being stressed is not my natural state of being. Some people can work very well under stress. I am not one of them, which is actually slightly surprising, when you consider how much I procrastinate. You’d think I’d be better able to handle feeling under pressure by now, but in fact I’ve become quite adept at ignoring how stressed I should be and continuing to move in a leisurely manner. This largely explains why all of my essays, exams, projects etc from my time as a school/university student were either late or “not reaching her full potential”. I am a master of coasting by with little effort when I can’t be bothered.

But now! Now promise is back in the air and the world is once again full of wonder. You’ll find me outside, staring at the side wall of my house, intrigued by the tiny brown lizard clambering up towards the roof. I’ll be with you in a moment, but right now, the lizard is much more fascinating.