Sometimes the shit just work out.

So it panned out, somehow. It did, and let me tell you how. Not the why, because the why is always cosmic and magical and why is an infinite series of deconstructed happenstance that we can never know. At all

The Why.

But I can tell you the what and how this shit panned out for me Sunday night and Monday morning and finally, Tuesday morning.

Just when I’m ready to hang my head low and submit my happiness to an engulfing maw of pain and despair (it is my life, after all), something happens, something snaps in place and works out OK, and in many cases, beyond my direct meddling or control, and I start thinking, hey, maybe someone is watching out for me…

But nah.

No one is ever watching out for you. Those “lucky” breaks are frequently the cumulative elemental opportunities you’ve been compiling in that foggy little spirit of yours and one day, they all break out like horses from a freezing barn and you behold: the shit worked out in spite of yourself.

Let me tell you how it all panned out.

Rewind this stinky filament back to ahhhh, let’s say…Sunday night. Act the First.

The weekend was torrential and fast and fried. Too much going on in this debacle called Me.

What better way to celebrate the passage of another futile 2 days than to sit on the floor of my apartment while I watched Fargo’s Episode 5. Best damned show on television right now. Fargo, brilliant, I’m spellbound. It will remain this way until next week when Rectify begins its season 2 and then I will be able to say confidently that the best show on television is now airing.

But Fargo is great and I watched, tired, spent, vague, but the episode captured me. Tired, the remote controls lay askew all over the carpet. One for the television, one for the cable box, one for my Bose stereo. The Bose is too old to be configured with anything “universal,” and besides, it’s funner and more spiritually grueling to juggle remote controls in the dark, especially considering the fact that your eyesight, which sucks during the daylight hours, is downright comical at night.

Television hour was over and I scooted off to bed about 11.

Monday, went to work, waddled home in the evening, and instantly launched into cooking mode. In the course of unpacking my day’s lunch bag and other portable belongings, I stepped on the Bose remote twice because I left it on the carpet within sight of the radio. The remote is thin and small and costs a lot to replace, and get this…the radio is useless without it. The Bose has no knobs or controls on the unit’s body, so everything must be controlled by the stupid remote control. So you guard that remote with your life and you really avoid stepping on it, which I did twice on Monday night. I finally leaned down and picked it up and rested it on my computer desk. Such effort! Still, I thought nothing of it at the time.

Dinner was splendid, sumptuous, I ate up. Pasta for a King.

Incidentally, I had reset my bedroom clock radio and microwave oven clock on Monday morning because an electrician came out this weekend to work on my fuse box and had to shut my power down.

Anyways, in my exhaustion and Monday sorrowful aftereffects, I made an error in one crucial ingredient when setting my clock radio: in setting the alarm from its power disruption default midnight setting, I changed the wake time to “pm” instead of “am.” I wasn’t wearing my reading glasses when I did this. My alarm clock is set to go off at 5:25am and 5:27am. This is a fancy clock radio with 2 alarms (OK, not that fancy, but still, kinda keen, I think). Now sometimes, I wake up of my own accord before my alarm goes off, but there are other times I will easily sleep through if it doesn’t go off. This has happened. A couple of times I’ve had power outages during the night and I’m too lazy to install a memory back-up battery to prevent such occurrences. A couple of other times, I simply forgot to turn the alarm on before bed time. Well, Tuesday morning rolled around and my alarm clock happily slept along with me because it couldn’t be bothered to issue a synchronized beeping wake up call for another 12 hours, at 5:25pm. I slept through comfortably and I would have overslept, thus missing my bus, if not for one other auspicious mis-event:

During my bumbling, flailing clumsiness on Monday night, when I stepped on the Bose remote twice, my foot must have accidentally set the radio’s alarm to go off at 5:25am (which was a preset I had programmed into the radio long ago when I used it occasionally as an alarm clock). I never use the Bose for this purpose anymore!

That’s right, bitches!

I failed to set my alarm clock correctly, but fate rescued me when my Bose began piping out loud classical music early on Tuesday morning at 5:25, virtue of my two left feet the night before.

Sometimes the shit just work out.