Square Peg ● Round Hole







I like to be prepared. When the skies darkened yesterday, I retrieved my umbrella as I walked into my morning meeting. As I left, I was so pleased that I had thought ahead. The rain was coming down steadily and I smirked as people ran to their cars, without the tools to shield themselves from Mother Nature’s tears. I went to open my umbrella and nothing happened. The stupid button on the handle would not release. After the insanity of trying to push that damn button over and over, I ran to my car instantly being paid back for my unkind thoughts regarding those ill-prepared people. The moment I got to the car, it opened. By then, I was soaked.

Interestingly enough, I couldn’t get it to close, so I stuffed in the backseat of my car while hurling sentences enhancers. Yes, I am the crazy lady screaming at an umbrella. Happy Friday, to me. All the way to the grocery store, I am contemplating my next move. Do I chance it by using it to shield me from the rain even if I can’t get it closed once I am inside the store? And if it doesn’t close, is it still classified as bad luck? I mean, if it is already opened, does it count? I am not up on my superstitions, but I thought you had to actually open it inside. If it is already in the open position, am I free of the bad luck? Do you understand the crap that goes on in my head? It is like a circus on steroids minus the clowns. Clowns are creepy. They have no place in my thought process.

Apparently, I was wearing the universe out with my overthinking of the umbrella situation, because the rain stopped as I pulled into a parking spot. I glared at the open rain shielding device currently occupying the entire backseat. Grateful that I didn’t have an accident as I probably would have been maimed by the evil source of my insanity. Death by umbrella is not how I want my life to end.

I collected myself. Took a deep breath. Grabbed the satanic umbrella and pressed the button to close it. By the grace of God, I was successful and promptly placed it in the back of the car. By placing it, I really mean I threw it like it was on fire.

I know what you are thinking. You are wondering why I gave so much power to an inanimate object. Look, I can’t explain it either. All I know is that I probably won’t use that umbrella again, and it gives me an excellent excuse to jump on Amazon to buy a new one. I just hope the one residing in the back of the car hasn’t spread rumors about me to its friends. I don’t want the other umbrellas to know that I am a crazy loon. I would rather use the element of surprise.