When I was driving around on Saturday, I had to drive down a narrow alley (chasing an Ingress portal). There was a truck parked about halfway down, and as I went past, I misjudged the distance between my car and the truck, and my passenger side mirror whacked his driver side mirror. It was a big bang. I turned around at the end of the alley and went back to take a look. I knocked his mirror out of its housing, and it was on the ground cracked. So, seven years bad luck, plus I hit someone's car. My mirror was busted as well, but I think the seven years is concurrent, not consecutive.
Anyway, I left a note on the windshield of the truck, saying I had hit the mirror as I went past, and giving my name and phone number. So far, no one has called, and I'm kind of wondering why.
That was the first thing. As I mentioned, I can't remember what the other two things were, but then something else occurred yesterday that kind of irritated me, and I thought it would be a good substitute. Maybe.
My irritating colleague, who was in the doctoral program with me, is finishing up next week and graduating. During our faculty meeting we had a little celebration with cake for her. As she was talking about the program, she mentioned, out of the blue, that I had also been in the program, but didn't finish. That kind of irritated me, and I am still irritated by it. I guess that's why she is my irritating colleague.
I get an email every day showing what the post office is delivering to me that day. Since I only go out to the mailbox about once a week, it is helpful in letting me know if there is something worth looking at. Yesterday I saw that there was a letter from my dad.
My dad sends me something in the mail twice a year--a birthday card and a Christmas card. I couldn't think of why he would be sending me a letter in the middle of April. My first thought was that he was disowning me. I have no idea why that would be the first thought that came into my head. We have a pretty good relationship these days.
It was an article he cut out of the local paper about the origins of 420 as code for smoking dope. Apparently it originated at San Rafael High School in the early 70s. Kind of an interesting story. He attached a note asking if it brought back memories of my high school days. I
t did--we used to have a code word for getting stoned as well, to use when we were talking on the phone in the kitchen when our moms were cooking dinner. "Do you have any money?" meant "do you have a joint we can go smoke in the park?" Not quite as clever as 420, but it was effective.
I think that he sent the article was more surprising than being disowned. I'll call him today and thank him.
Ok, I feel a bit better about things now that I have written it all out. Here's a nice tree.