It’s my Grandpa’s funeral tomorrow, and it’s fair to say that I’m not exactly the happiest bunny at the moment. The repair bill for my car came in at £277 (though half of that turned out to be unrelated to my Close Encounter of the Kerb Kind), and my bad luck was compounded yesterday when I fell over on the ice on my walk into work, injuring my wrist. It bloody hurt – if it’s still painful in a couple of days I’m going to have to think about getting it X-rayed. Then, hilariously, I managed to somehow break my client’s coffee machine this morning. Oh, and I left my headphones in his office and only discovered it a few seconds before I would have got on the bus to pick up my car – cue a long walk back, as I simply can’t survive without music. Ordinarily this kind of tiny thing would be amusing, but coupled with everything else, it just made me want to give up and go to sleep. So I spent the first half of this evening feeling very sorry for myself.
But tomorrow I’ll be dressed up and hoping to send my Grandpa off well. It’s going to be a difficult day (understatement), but I’m clinging to the hope that it’ll be the final slamming shut of the run of bad luck for my family. Maybe it’ll even turn the other way.