When you’ve spent the last forty hours oscillating between Murphy’s law—“Anything that can go wrong will go wrongâ€â€”and a new law called “Austin’s law†that I discovered—“Anything that can go right will go rightâ€â€”you no longer know which one to expect. All you can do is try to enjoy the journey, including its detours.
How is it that life can go from so bad to so good in a few hours?
Why is it that these things happen to us when we are in the most hurry? I felt sorry for the old man, but I also felt my frustration rising. I would have only been five minutes late, which was a miracle, if he had watched the person in front of him in line and taken off his belt. This was the best worst trip ever.
Do appointments at regional passport agencies have “hard†or “soft†start times? Were they more like going to the doctor or getting married? If I was late, would anyone care or notice, or would some sour-faced government agent escort me to the curb and say the equivalent in American English of “bugger off”?
Here was the gist: before 2007 I would have been okay. In 2009 I was, to use the postal worker’s parlance, “screwed.” Things started moving really fast from here.
