Threes

Things happen in threes, usually bad things. Like the week David Bowie, Alan Rickman, and Glen Fry from the Eagles all died. Yes, I know, humans are so programmed to look for patterns, that we often find them where they don’t exist.

Doesn’t mean the universe isn’t laughing at me anyway.

My three started after an piece of essential software broke at work. Then someone hit my car in the grocery store parking lot and left it. Finally, the baby decided sleeping at night was for chumps (again).

As I am working through these issues, I was excited and ready for a “me” day. A day where I take vacation from work but my children are still in daycare. A day I could spend hours writing without interruption. Maybe even read a grown-up book.

A few days before this amazing treat, daycare calls me to come pick up my sick child. If you have children in daycare for any length of time, you know they get rockin’ immune systems. The kind that laugh at most germs because they’ve seen soooo much worse.

I hoped it was nothing as sometimes daycare errs on the side of caution. I picked her up and brought her home, tucking her onto the sofa with some television where she promptly fell asleep.

Uh, oh. She was sleeping through TV. Not just any TV, but My Little Ponies. She must be really sick.

By the next day, she was all but bouncing off the walls to go back to “school”. I thought we were in the clear. Just a little bug.

And then that “little bug” hit me. I spent my day of writing sucking down cold medicine and lying in bed, just glad that I had a few hours to rest before I had to go get the germ bringers from daycare.

Looks like it’s going to take a little longer to work through my Roadblock.