So I have this running joke that if you complain about something, it magically gets better. For instance, if you tolerate a noisy car alarm for a while and then grouse about it, it somehow stops honking the second you finish your sentence. Sounds silly, but time and time again, voicing a well-timed and valid complaint seems to work. (This belief has been proven so often that one of my colleagues says that I control the world with my mind. I wish.)
While we were walking down Guerrero tonight, Craig found a file folder holder on the street. “Crazy,” he said. “Just yesterday I was saying I need one of these.” So he picked it up.
Then, as Meg and I were discussing the home organizer’s belief that our new feng shui-ed out kitchen setup would bring more money into our lives, we stumbled upon some cash on the sidewalk. (Meg used it to leave a generous tip at the ice cream parlor.)
Yesterday, I said that I wanted a cupcake; an hour later, Sabrina, not knowing of my cupcake lust, IMed me to say that I should come over and grab one of the treats she’d baked. Bingo! Cupcakes. Today, I wished I had a better umbrella because mine is broken, and one randomly arrived in the mail.
I don’t believe in The Secret and all of that new agey manifestation stuff, but I do love odd coincidences like this. Tomorrow, I will wish for Ryan Gosling and Kate Moennig to deliver a bucket of kittens. Will provide updates when this inevitable event goes down.