Heed my warning!
If you have the opportunity to stand in another place, do it. If I am in line at the grocery, when it's my turn to have my groceries rung out the register either runs out of paper or the computer chip dies. The gas pump malfunctions when the auto needs fuel.
If I'm on the freeway and there is a traffic jam (stau - my first German word) I always move to the wrong lane. Without fail I choose the wrong handyman, the appliance that breaks down as soon as I get it home, or the clothes that fall apart at first wash.
I bought a Honda Accord in 2006; for 3 years the teckie has been searching for what causes the rattle. The crown molding separated. The GE Adora microwave has been repaired two times in 4 months. The Cuisianart Grind and Brew coffee pot leaks from the inside. The Mohawk laminate floor creaks. The painter did a crappy job of painting the woodwork. The wood floor was stained with odd markings.
I won't even write about the bagless vacuum cleaner. Did I mention the gash made in the leather chair when it was taken out of the box for delivery? Or the hole in the 'left facing arm' of the sofa when it arrived - and the 3 subsequent appointments it took to get it repaired? Or the 'not quite right' tailoring on the garnett chair from Macy's? Maybe you'd like to know about the JC Penney draperies headers that came apart, or the solar shade that hangs just a bit crooked.
I buy milk that seems to sour in the jug on the way home. When I'm in a hurry, my Dell isn't.
Social Security was not happy with the amount of part-time job money I made, so I was subjected to that nightmare for 8 months. Now, they owe ME money! And Medicare. Now there is an adventure in itself. Aside from the aches and pains, I understand why "Growing old is not for sissies."
Every Monday during the summer there is an old car show next door - with music from the 50's and 60's. At least I can understand the music, and the cars look familiar.
Even my condo that affords me a great view of Lake Erie sits beside a township park that is 'blessed' with Methodists who think it's just groovy to have their church services at the lake from the 1st Sunday in June through Labor Day. I don't mind the services so much, but the soprano (way off-key) who feels as though she must practice beginning at 7:15 a.m. on Sunday so she can hear herself on the public address system gets on my last nerve. I'm thinking of blasting her out with some Beatles music.
Luckily, my friends are solid and well put together and pretty much don't break down.