Quote of the Day:
“You can win, you can lose, or it can rain.” –Casey Stengel
You ever had one? TB has damn sure known a losin’ streak or two. I had one that lasted over a decade. It took a lot of beer to weather that storm.
Typically though, a losin’ streak in life involves the smaller things and they wear a body down, a soul too. Mine usually start with something like a lost wallet, then there is an unexpected setback at the office, maybe a sprained ankle or a long cold or a vicious paper cut gets mixed in somewhere. A few extra pounds will inevitably appear on the scales. All too often there’s a fender-bender in the mix.
I always know by the second act when I’m in a streak. “Bad things come in threes,” is the cliché, but when you get on a streak, that thought, it pops up after number two every time, is just a woebegone grasp for a non-existent straw.
These kinds of life losin’ streaks, I am convinced, are a result of biological and cosmic forces we cannot hope to understand. Karma? Nah. There’s something to that, but losin’ streaks aren’t related. If anything, the losin’ streaks I’m describing are more prone to strike the righteous. It’s an ironic aspect of the tumult that simply piles confusion atop pain. Not only that, but the sort of streaks I am attempting to describe are never so drastic as to allow a socially acceptable outward show of self-pity, and of too little consequence to attract commiseration from outside observers. Hey, it could be worse, right? It’s not cancer, or starving children, or being a Tulane fan for cryin’ out loud!
There’s only one way to beat these little life losin’ streaks–you gotta ride ’em out. Sleep. Drink. Go about your business, with a bit more care than usual. Outlast. That’s all there is. Eventually those neurons will start firin’ back on the right trajectory. Karma won’t let this nonsense get out of hand.
“Count your blessings name them one by one.” —Baptist Hymnal, number 231