When losing starts feeling like a win

We've all heard about Murphys law. If it can go wrong, it will. My life is a perfect example of that. I know I've touched on this before, but I'm going to do it again.

One of my best friends in this world always tells me "Liz I just don't understand how you do it. Your life is so hard!"

What's so hard about it? I mean aside from the obvious, I just couldn't figure it out....until I really started to think. Truth is, I have the worst luck. I promise, if I'm running late, every single light will be red.  We run out of groceries every time I have 4 cranky kids in the car on a Friday afternoon. My favorite wine will be sold out on the worst day of the week, because let's face it. Its only sold in 3 stores. Its the most expensive one, and no one has ever heard of it. Why wouldn't someone buy it in bulk?  That's when I started to get it.

There's another me out there that didn't hit that last red light...or ran it. And seeing that last bottle on the shelf was like a winning lottery ticket! She didn't have her kids with her today. She probably got into the store just before the rush hit. And she was WINNING today.

She didn't have a kid pitch a fit for the last yogurt this morning, when it was all she wanted for breakfast. She missed the client that cries every time they come into the office. To the rest of the world, it was just another day, but to her it was the best day. She had just enough hair spritz, just enough time to look great, just enough coffee to fill her cup, just the right fit in those new pants, just enough makeup to look perfect.  Yes, she ran out of all of these things, buy she had just enough for today, and missing the rush at the Walmart meant just enough time to replenish. On any other day, she's the biggest loser, but today she was winning.

For me, it wasn't that day. Ran out of coffee creamer yesterday, but I didn't remember it until after I made coffee. Had a kid refuse his breakfast because he wanted mine. He won. I went hungry. Every light was red. Every driver was slow. No one answered the phone. Everything got shuffled. Missed that goal by 1 sale. Walmart was jamming. Kids argued the entire way thru the store, and on the pasta aisle my 4 year old tossed all of my groceries into another persons cart while I was deciding on a sauce. (She probably questioned her sanity at the checkout, because she straight walked off with my crap) My 9 year old decided to play Tarzan at the register and nearly tore down the gum display. And the meltdown that came when the car seat that had been strapped in that same spot for a year, wasn't in his favorite seat was just exhausting. And the cherry on this peach of a day was our friend dropping by with a house warming gift.....that he drank without me.  Good thing I bought the $5 wine. After a while it went down pretty smooth. Just in time for me size 00 daughter to try on the dress I bought for me...and it fit her.

We celebrate the wins, because we are so used to losing.

The key

So, I work on insurance, and the question came up the other day of "who has a key to your house in the event of an emergency?" Well, as usual my mind began to wonder. Who does have a key? And what kind of emergency are we talking here? Like a I forgot to put diapers in the bag? I got locked out? Forgot to feed the dog? Hey can you check to see if my house is on fire? Like that wouldn't be obvious with the smoke rolling....

It was after questioning the reasoning that I started thinking of when folk did have keys, and I quickly realized why I haven't handed any out lately. 

In my apartment plenty of people had access. My sitter had a key so she could come and go. My best friend so she could borrow clothes or shower if she'd been out late. The maintenance staff also had one. What comes with a spare key tho? 

Well that my friends us the reason of this post. We are taught to give a key for emergencies, but in reality you're more likely to be walked in on while pooping by a friend than a tree falling in your living room. 

It happened so many times. Not the pooping part, but I swear there was an alert system that sent a signal every time I stepped in the shower. Her first day on the job, my sitter walked in on me. My only thoughts were "please don't quit!"  A few weeks later she did it again. And a few weeks after that, her boyfriend did. 

I can't think of a single instance where I had an emergency in need of someone going in while I was out. But if it were a contest to see how many times I could walk out of the shower as someone spontaneously opened the door, I'd totally win!