Moments ago, I decided to take an afternoon break to enjoy an iced coffee... it's a delicious drink that is blended to perfection and poured over ice. I cleaned the kitchen with every intention of rewarding myself with this tasty smackral (how does Pooh Bear spell that word?). In a snap, I blended up the drink and was giddy with anticipation, briefly pausing to get Alice up from her nap and put her in her Bumper Jumper.
I skipped into the kitchen and pulled out the blender's pitcher to pour the mouthwatering contents into my glass. I screamed. Because THIS happened:
For reasons unknown to mankind, the bottom part of the blender popped out, and my delight splattered everywhere. At first I yelled, "DAGNABIT!" And then I laughed hard and asked, "Seriously, universe?" Still caught up in the catastrophe at hand, I ran toward Alice who was jumping obliviously in the doorway and said, "The futility!!" And continued for awhile, explaining the futility of life to a baby.
So, today, life reminded me that I have zero control by splattering my tasty Reward Drink all across the kitchen (only took several mounds of paper towels to clean it up). How has life reminded YOU of its futility?