First, the Good News
Today was a perfect beach day, and so, for the second time this week, Jack and I went to the beach. Today, we were back in Gloucester at Wingaersheek Beach with Motherhood Mentor and Good Friend Stephanie and her 12 (!) year-old daughter, Samantha. The water was perfect and the tide was going out, which made for lots of good rock climbing and digging and splashing and swimming.
Jack and I also went to the beach on Wednesday, with Ms. Sarah Spencer Welsh, the newlywed! What a treat. We had a blast. On Wednesday, we headed to Ipswich, also on Cape Ann, to Crane Beach. The water was nothing short of frigid (low 70's) and Jack insisted on staying in it even though his lips were blue and he was shivering. And it was so, so nice to see Sarah and to hear her plans with her Joe as she heads to med school next month. Hooray! Jack didn't sleep the whole way home because he was too busy flirting with Sarah. I hope that Joe doesn't mind.
Stephanie gave me the best advice today: put baby powder on dry skin that has sand caked onto it and the sand brushes away! And you smell like baby powder! This is good news for all of us, but especially for those of us who eat the sand, roll in the sand and get the sand in our diapers. Magic!
Karma, or, If Things Come in 3's, I'm Screwed
Why doesn't anyone ever say that things come in 3's when it's good things? If you go up to a friend and say, "I just met my soul mate and I got the job of my dreams," no one ever responds with "Well, you should play the lottery, because you'll certainly win. Things come in threes!" BUT, if you fall down the stairs on your way to work and then miss the train, tell the water cooler crowd at work and they'll all avoid you like the plague. You're doomed.
Once this spring, when I was struggling with pigeon pose, or a head stand, or, hardest of all, crow (it is as hard to do crow as it can be to eat it) in yoga class, the instructor told us that there is no such thing as *good* Karma and *bad* Karma. Karma is bad. I guess that the Christian version of Karma is the cross that you have to bear. It's all of the crap that happens that you have to work to overcome to reach enlightenment.
So, I have had a boatload of Karma the last two weeks.
Yesterday, as Jack and I were in the Jetta wagon, stopped at a red light, we were rear-ended. No, it wasn't serious. Yes, the Jetta has WAAAAaaay more damage than the Passat, which didn't have any damage after last week's accident, however, it's very driveable, and Kevin pushed the bumper down so that I can open and shut the rear door. Yes, Massachusetts is a no-fault state and yes, we have a $500 deductible.
Jack and I were on our way to get Ms. Spencer Welsh to babysit for Jack so that I could go to see the surgeon for my final visit. When I finally got to the doctor's office, the receptionist told me that my appointment had been cancelled because I had been seen by the surgeon last week. And how was I supposed to know that the appointment had been cancelled? According to the receptionist, it was my fault because I hadn't asked the surgeon when she saw me last week if I would still need to come for this visit.
Given the circumstances, I was remarkably composed and I didn't jump through the annoying glass window and throttle the bitch. I just asked when I could see the doctor and explained that I needed a note to return to work and clenched my teeth and pressed my fingernails in to the palms of my hands.
I am never, ever, ever going back there again. Ever.
Fucking Karma.
9:44:47 PM 
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