I’m rather afraid to inform anyone of this, but … to be honest … things have been going splendidly in my world lately. 

I’m enjoying this lucky-streak thoroughly, but I woke up mildly concerned this morning.  Why am I so lucky?  Is it karma?  I mean, I haven’t necessarily been “good” but I haven’t really been “bad” either. To be honest, it doesn’t seem fair.  I feel like I’m going to get it … BAD … painful … mortifying … at any moment.

Examples of bad luck I’m anticipating:

• Experience a massive heart attack while running. 
• Trip over a live wire while running. 
• Choke on my morning oatmeal and suffocate with only my cat, Bruce, to witness the fatal bite.  
• Fall down a flight of stairs because I was carrying 18 grocery bags up to my apt in a moronic balancing-act. 
• Get acid thrown on my face, deforming me for life.  
• Fall victim to a pandemic.  Or a nuclear holocaust.  Or a zombie attack. Or all three at once.
• Go blind from staring at the sun too long.  
• Suddenly form an intense allergy to dairy products, rendering me incapable of consuming cheese (a major part of my diet).
• Form an allergy to my cat, the only person on the planet I feel really understands moi.
• Form adult-acne.  
• Lose my arm in the washer right after I haphazardly lost my finger in the microwave. 
• Get gangrene on my toes … get forced to remove all ten and thus never run again.
• Getting fat in an incredibly short amount of time, like Kirsty Alley, because I can never run again.

Anyway. Who knows … and who cares … but the reality is this: I sense some bad junk coming my way. It’s time for it. You know, like a parking lot falling victim to a 100 year storm because doesn’t have the accurate drainage plan necessary to beat the flood.

There’s no way this delightful goodness … like a seemingly bottomless butterfinger blizzard that is, in actuality, just a size large … will last forever.  

Either way, I’m being verrrry careful with scissors these days.