There's this thing.
It's called Murphy's law.
It basically states whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.
it rules my world.
Wake up, fall out of bed.
Head down the stairs.... fall head first down the stairs.
Head to class without doing the reading and praying, praying I won't get called on
but of course the professor eyes lock with mine
and I mumble some nonsense about the meaning of life being 42
and i get the look that basically means my participation grade is a big freakin' F.
Head to work where I have to tell everyone to have a magical
even though there is nothing magical about my day,
and get yelled at by tourists who think they are entitled to tax free crap
and the woman who eyes me like I'm stupid because her card keeps coming up
and surely swiping it 53 more times will work.
Damn you, Murphy.
Leave work and step in gum,
trip over a bum,
my day is almost done
and there he is.
There's this other law. It's called Pete's law.
It kicks Murphy's law in the ass with the power of Chuck Norris.
And when I am with him, everything stops.
Every moment that was wrong is forgotten.
Every bit of anger is healed,
every second is bliss.
And then, sooner than it should ever be,
he is gone.
God damn, walking into that pole hurt.
Looks like Murphy's ready for some payback.