By my reckoning I’m about 75% indestructible now

It’s been a difficult few days strewn with catastrophe, however while contemplating which of my misdemeanours might most have dismayed the universe I hit upon truly amazing answer. An answer that basically makes me invincible. Intrigued? Come, join me on my meandering path of practically infallible logic……

The first incident occurred as I was innocently driving to work on a cold rainy morning at an hour when all right thinking people should be just getting home from a night of mayhem and debauchery. Bravely heading into the pitch darkness, preparing myself for a day of giving my all to the well-being of others (ok, thinking about how much I was looking forward to coffee as soon as I got to the office), suddenly there was the most almighty crash, a sense of plummeting into the bowels of the earth followed by a hissy, explodey noise like a nest of vipers had been overinflated with a balloon pump.

I hauled my wounded vehicle out of the abyss only to find myself hurtling towards the three other vehicles that had encountered the crevasse moments before. Clenching my buttocks and screaming like a banshee at an old folks home in flu season, I managed to abandon my metaphorical ship in the last remaining gap in the graveyard of deflated automobiles.

Looking back at the road behind, this was no mere pothole that had tried to claim me. This was a full scale collapse, opening up a path straight to Hades. I could hear the screams (although that might still have been me) and smell the roasting flesh (which may have been the nearby house making bacon sandwiches). I was lucky to escape with just a change of tyre and underpants.

Basically despite me having wished it many a time, this was the time the earth literally tried to swallow me up.

Now to the second incident where upon reaching for a towel it appears that the airing cupboard has become a really crappy aquarium. The sort where all the water floods into your house and all the fish are spare bedding and clothes you shoved in there in the vain hope that one day they would fit again even though they’ve been in there so long the fashion has come back round and gone again. I thought briefly that perhaps my flat was destined to be the Noah’s ark of the modern world but then I realised that I only have cats and dust bunnies so that might be less effective than a magical boat that held all the creatures of the world including the ones that no-one had ever heard of. Also my flat was clearly failing to float.

Somehow, despite the grim determination of my home to lure me into a watery grave, the deluge was halted. Luckily for me I have an awesome plumbing type friend who was able to restore heat and water while I stood there giggling at words like ‘stopcock’ and ‘ball valve’ which are apparently totally real things. Plumbing is basically being paid for making smutty remarks about people’s pipeworks. Well that and the whole restoring heat and water stuff anyway.

Despite the mounting evidence, I still didn’t appreciate what was going on until today when out of nowhere, all manner of bleeps and flashy lights erupted in my car and then went silent again. Now it’s a well established fact that cars are not my strong point so I wondered if this was just a little eccentricity. Being a modern, capable sort of woman I immediately texted someone who knew about cars and explained that my tin man light had a little disco then went back to sleep but it was probably just to cheer me up on a long journey.

One slightly mocking reply and an intimate encounter with a dipstick (snigger) later and I was able to confirm that indeed my car was an oil free zone but as I was nowhere near a garage I headed off for little drive about until I found one. Apparently this was the wrong thing to do as it can turn your engine into a gigantic ball of flamey death. Ooops.

Miraculously unflamed, I found myself having the following conversation with mechanically minded man (MMM)

Me: ‘There are a lot of oils, shall I just get the one in the nicest coloured bottle?’
MMM: (sigh) ‘No you need the one that says (erm I forget what he said but something not related to aesthetics on the front).
Me: ‘but that one says it’s for older engines. That seems unkind, could they not say it’s for mature engines like they do with skin cream so we don’t all just give in and die of moisturiser related shame?’
MMM: ‘Just buy the damn oil’
Me: ‘Ok I have oil but I have no idea how to get it in the dipstick hole (double snigger)
MMM: ‘No, do NOT do that. It goes in the other hole, the one with the oil picture on it’
Me’: The one with the genie lamp? You want me to put oil in my genie hole?
MMM: ‘No, just no. I don’t even know what to say to you now
Me: You’ve given my car an age complex and now you’re ruining all my wish based hopes’

Conversation becomes unrepeatable from here.

So in effect in less than a week I have survived attacks from the forces of earth, water and fire. This has got to mean that if I can make it though whatever air has in store for me I can never be killed. Based on a pope related conversation I had with a slightly bewildered man on a train over the weekend, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a flying monkey attack.

Bring it on

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