The Car Didn't Land on my Head

That sounds much more dire than it was. Nothing bad happened. It's just that on the way to work this morning, I had a weird experience.

I was following one of those gigantic car-transport trucks. You know the ones. They must have an actual name. Somebody ask a 4-year-old boy; he'll know. We were on the road that leads up to the interstate on-ramp (Peace Road, for the cognoscenti). There are stop lights on this road. While we were stopped at a red light, the driver of the truck gets out and starts climbing around tightening the straps on the cars being transported.

This is not a particularly comforting sight when you're stopped essentially at this guy's tail pipe. I must have had a fairly alarmed and confused look on my face, because the driver signaled that all was well. But HE looked alarmed and confused, so I didn't know quite what to think.

So then and there, and weighing in how my life has been going, I decided that if by the end of the day no car had fallen on my head, I would call it a good day.

And cars stayed off my head.

So... the moral of the story is "set your standards low enough and you won't be disappointed." Or more positively, remember to be grateful for the good that does happen.