May day, may day may day, isn’t that a call for help? Actually it’s mayday, mayday, mayday, which said three times signals a life-threatening emergency. So we don’t have a life threatening emergency here, just a series of inconveniences: the cat woke me up 30 minutes early, a punctured slumber bump, a flood spreading from under the kitchen sink across the floor, and cat vomit in three places on the rug. When I went to order a new part for the slumber bump, they didn’t have the right size, and my credit card was declined. Geesh. I need to get outside!
As I write down this series of little hassles, I go from being righteously pissed off, to not taking myself, or life so seriously. I’ll wrap up this posting, change clothes and walk up the hill. These are just minor annoyances, life on life’s terms, with no need to call may day, may day may day or mayday, mayday, mayday. My life is good, and my problems are petty, as a friend of mine says.