Chicken Soup for the Soul

There is a saying that tragedy comes in threes. If recent events are any indication of what is to come next, I am likely to get struck by lightning (twice).

My sad and pathetic state of affairs began with a seemingly innocuous pot of soup. Momma always told me to make my own stock, as it was healthier and always that much more tastier- chciken soup for the soul as they would say. So, there I was on a typical Saturday afternoon, doing my usual chores- cleaning, laundry and this time, simmering a pot of chicken soup. Those of you who know me, realise that I have this slight obsessive need to clean, but decided early on that I would not spend my whole day dressed in a French Maid outfit dusting, lest I be called ‘pathetic loser’ by my friends. By early evening I was ready to go, ran to the kitchen turned off my soup and ran out the door. Had a pleasant evening and went out to a club with some friends only to return to my condo, which could only be described as smelling like a Hamilton smelting factory. My dog ran to me, sketchier than usual and I read the 3 notes left by security, all the while trying to gain my senses and cover my nose. Apparently, in my haste to leave my flat, I had inadvertently turned the element to Maximum, instead of OFF. The pot and its contents over the next 6 hours boiled down to an acrid smelling, blackened mass. The flat stank, as did all of the contents, including my dog. Security had come by to investigate after the neighbours called it in – it seems the alarm did not go off in my unit.
Needless to say, my face was as ashen gray as the pot. My brain was still half baked and I was not looking forward to the clean-up. Luckily, there was no fire and no visible smoke damage, but the acrid smoke had gotten into everything and I spent the rest of the day scubbing and cleaning while mumbling to myself. The second tragedy didn’t take long to traipse my way. After loading the dishwasher, I went to re-do all the laundry, when I heard the familiar sound of water running and my dog whining. Turning the corner to my kitchen, I realised I was standing in a water logged carpet, water flowing from the dishwasher and cabinets. It seems god decided to flood my kitchen as well, to quell the fire that once burned. Too bad his timing sucks. I ran to the main water valve and shut it off – the washer had broken resulting in the flood.
That evening, while sitting in my stinky apartment, exahusted from cleaning I turned on the television, only to see news about floods in Peterborough and fires in B.C. Not sure what calamity will come next, but if your keen on following, then just turn on the news.