The End Results of a Very Bad Day
WICKHAM CP, FL—Though the morning went well writing code, as soon as I left the coffee shop I had been working in, my day went to hell.
Not listening to my first instincts of covering the walls with fabric, I decided to try to cover them instead with this thin FPR stuff. I never got past the first panel.
After breaking one of my drill bits by hitting the tops of three different screws which I had used to attach the insulation to the wall (and leaving these ugly holes in the panel), the wonderful Craftsman Bolt-On suddenly seized up on me.
Hot and sticky and sweaty and frustrated, I took a look at my work and was thoroughly disappointed. The holes-over-insulation-screws glared starkly and the screws that I did manage to attach the panel to the wall with were all out of line and akimbo.
“Well,” I said, “I’ll just do it over and use that panel as a template” and I took a shower and, confident that I’d be able to swap out the Craftsman at the local Sears, headed off to the store.
The salesman I got was just covering the tool department while the regular guy was at lunch. He didn’t know how to do the exchange, so he asked his manager who informed me that though it’s a 90-day in-store return policy, after that (for up to a year) it’s a send-it-back-to-Craftsman policy. I pointed to the box of a new one where it displayed prominently “One Year Warranty” and I was almost certain that it was a one-year-in-store-exchange but couldn’t prove it and I once again found myself frustrated and tired and not at all pleased with myself or the situation.
Not wanting to wait a couple weeks for the exchange—and on the manager’s advice and assurance—I bought a new one with the intention of sending the other one back for a refund.
I called it a day, went home, cracked open a beer and got online and found out I was right about the one-year-exchange policy.
I gave up, decided this day would only get worse if I continued, and spent the rest of the evening reading.
I went to bed early because I was tired, but I couldn’t get to sleep, which is very odd for me. My mind was filled with all the tasks ahead of me, reliving the frustrating events of the day, and raising doubts about just how smart a move this was to build out a van.
It was at that point, at 1 am and still wide awake, that someone pounded hard on my door shouting something about a fire.
Twenty feet away, my neighbor’s rig (on my blind side) was engulfed in flames. No one was in it (anymore) but the people banging on my door were concerned my rig would catch next.
My rational mind says it was just “one of those days where everything goes wrong” (oddly, that phrase is filled with superstition).
The Mystic in me wonders if it was a horrible day because:
A) I was taking events too seriously and—not living authentically—the day snowballed downhill as a result… and my neighbor’s rig was just a coincidence, or
B) something in me foresaw my neighbor’s rig burning and made the day miserable as a (terribly vague) warning, or
C) and this is quite scary—my neighbor’s rig burned because I was so frustrated. 🙁
The truth is, I simply don’t know. What I do know is this isn’t my first burning-home-in-the-night-coincidence. See Sometimes She Bites.