I Swear, Some Days...

Today started like any other. I went downstairs to our little exercise area and set out to lift weights. I was about halfway through my workout, about to finish doing some lat presses, when the bar came crashing into the back of my head. After standing up, swearing, touching the growing bump on my noggin and swearing again, I looked at the machine to see what had happened. The bolt that secures the weight plates to the cable system had somehow worked its way loose. I swore at it, then tried to fix it, but the cable had wound around one of the pulleys in such a way that couldn't free it without a wrench. So I swore at it. Then I decided to skip the weights and do some situps. Every time my head touched the floor, it hit right on the spot where the bar had whacked me. Every time this happened, I swore.

I finished those and went back upstairs to make some coffee. I switched on the light in the range hood like I do every day, and the bulb popped and burned out. I swore at it, then went to find a light bulb. We were out. I swore at their absence.

I managed to get through making coffee, showering, and eating breakfast without incident.

I spilled coffee in my lap on the way to work. As you might imagine, I swore.

I'd ask for a do-over, but I'm not sure I want that either.