Finally, a trip to the beach. After being cooped up for well over a month, the sea breeze, sunshine and even the seagulls wanting to fight me about chip ownership have been calling. Nothing could possibly spoil the perfection.
Those were my thoughts as I got into bed last night, ready to dream about the flawless day ahead. The weather has been sunny and cloudless the last couple of days, if a bit nippy, and it appeared that the gods had combined their powers to deliver me a perfect, late autumn beach day. It shouldn’t have surprised me to be woken up at 5am to resounding claps of thunder and flashes of lightning illuminating the whole house – the kind of lightning that suggests that your house, specifically, is being struck and that you must somehow be to blame for something. That, or the butt of a celestial joke. It’s just the sort of stunt the gods would pull after getting my hopes up.
I got up some time later to find a tree lying across my car. I wouldn’t say it’s as flat as a pancake, exactly, but it’s certainly not roadworthy. Check Seaford area storm reports from last night if you don’t believe me – you’ll see that several trees came down in the early hours, with at least three of them taking out parked cars (I guess it wasn’t just my house, after all). If that doesn’t seem like something the gods would do for a laugh, then clearly you’re not familiar with the level of petty tomfoolery they’re capable of.
Anyway, my trip to the beach is well and truly and blown, and it looks like I’ll be spending the day seeking out a car mechanic near Frankston who’s experienced with European prestige cars from the 90s. Please, ye gods, let my insurance cover this… I mean, you’ve ruined my plans for the day and now you’re making me go to all this trouble, so please don’t charge me thousands of dollars for it as well. Please?