I’d like to take a moment to interrupt my delayed/prolonged/unnecessarily drawn out stories of Australia with a breaking news update.
Today started out like any other Wednesday. I woke up at 6am to the sun shining through the windows, got ready for school, hoped on the bus and was all set for another lovely Australian day. As I sat at my desk waiting for class to start, my phone went off. The message I read went something like this:
Approximately half a second after receiving that text, I was on the phone with my mom to ascertain exactly what had befallen my most cherished companion. Now let me first explain that my car is in Atlanta, along with all of the worldly possessions that didn’t make the cut to join me in Australia, being cared for by my wonderful Aunt Sheila, one of the kindest people I know.
My mom answers the phone, half laughing at what has to be the fastest response she’s ever gotten from me after a text message.
"Are you in class?" she asks.
"Nope, I've got 12 minutes until class starts," I say.
“So have you heard about your car?” she asks.
“Um, no...,” I say, almost too afraid to hear what is going to come next.
“Well, hopefully you’ll be able to laugh about this."
Now, just out of curiosity, how many people have actually laughed after finishing a conversation that starts out with that question?
But I digress.
So my mom goes on to explain how my car had been making some squeaking/squawking/grumbling/altogether unpleasant noises that had led my aunt to arrange to have it towed from her house to the dealership.
Sounds simple enough.
Unfortunately, the tow truck driver didn’t properly attach my car to his truck and at some point in the process my beloved Xterra rolled off the back. The good news is that it was in my aunt’s neighborhood and nobody was injured in the process. The bad news is that my aunt lives on a bit of a hill so my car came to rest by running into a parked car.
Thankfully I won’t be home until the end of April and since the car was already being towed to the dealership the bodywork can be done there as well, but all around not exactly how I had hoped to start my day.
Class started soon after I hung up with Mom and the next thing I knew it was noon and my weekend had officially begun. My first stop once I was back in Broadbeach was the grocery store where I picked up salmon and rice and was all set to make an amazing lunch. I got home, preheated the oven, added some deliciousness to the salmon and popped it in the oven.
After it had cooked for about 10 minutes and as my roommate’s mom and I sat in the kitchen working on our laptops, we heard a popping noise. I was content to go on distracting myself with Facebook as I mentally drooled over my soon to be lunch. But my roommate’s mom looked concerned so I headed over to the oven to investigate the noise. And for no particular reason, cue The Monster Mash.
I looked inside and peaked under the light
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight.
For the pan with my salmon had cracked in four
Making it edible no more
My pan had smashed
It did the salmon mash
The salmon mash
It was a Pyrex smash
It did the mash
It went up in a flash
It did the mash
It did the salmon mash
From my balcony in Australia’s east
To the kitchen table where we like to feast
My tears poured forth and my sobs burst free
As I set out to find lunch plan B
I’m not quite sure how to continue this story after that brief interruption for a sad remix of The Monster Mash, but here we go.
So yes, the pan with my lovely lemon pepper salmon was down for the count. My initial plan was to find a cookie sheet, salvage the salmon and keep on cooking, but I was warned that glass could’ve gotten into the salmon so I gave up my dreams and went searching for a new lunch plan.
At this point, my hopes were sufficiently dashed. Nothing was going to beat the lunch I had envisioned and by now I was starving so I settled for oatmeal.
Got out the packets, poured some milk in a microwave safe bowl (didn’t want to risk breaking anything else) and put it in the microwave. After two minutes, the timer went off and I begrudgingly walked to the kitchen to collect my consolation prize. Only it couldn’t be that simple. Nope. It was Oatmeal City in the microwave. The bowl was scalding hot and covered in oatmeal along with the rest of the microwave. I cleaned up the mess, salvaged as much oatmeal as I could and called it a meal.
I considered counting that as strike three for the day and hiding in my room to avoid blowing anything else up, but that’s what I love about Australia. It’s impossible to get down about any one of these things. You’ve just got to laugh about it.
So I looked outside, saw that the sun was shining on a gorgeous day and headed to the beach. After a wonderful nap on the beach and some decent work on my tan, I returned to the room. I’ve found that nothing ends a day better than running along the beach at sunset accompanied by Spanish music so that was just how I ended today. It was wonderful.
I hope all of your days are just as wonderful and that you’re able to find the humor in any situation that is thrown your way. The best is yet to come :)
Love you all and miss you tons!
-JB
