Things in Life You Can be Sure of 99% of the Time

By Caitlin Booth

There’s a lot of uncertainty in the world. 

Will your hair go delightfully wavy when you wash it this time? Or will it just be a frizzy mess? You haven’t changed your routine in the slightest, but the outcome remains an ongoing mystery. 

Will the commute to work take a blissful twenty minutes? Or will slow, indecisive people and someone who didn’t think to locate their transport card ahead of time plague your bus/train/car journey?

You can never really know. But there are few things you can always be sure of:

It will always rain on a critical laundry day.

You’re down to your last pair of undies. You’ve even exhausted your shame undies (the pair with the hole in the crotch that you just haven’t been able to part with). You were holding out until your day off so you could really embrace the task. Grand plans of separating colours from whites. Maybe even soaking that shirt with the pasta sauce stain on the front (and sleeve). You even bought new fabric softener for your towels. 

But you wake up to the delightful sound of rain on the roof. It always rains on laundry day.  

The minute you think you’ve got your life together, you’ll stumble.

The stumble isn’t a metaphor. It’s a literal stumble. We’ve all been there. You’re walking down the street in an outfit you’re pretty stoked about, your hair is sitting the way you want it to, and your crush has just sent you a meme on Instagram. Ain’t nothing gonna break your stride. 

Except for either that unfortunate crack in the footpath or your very own lapse in coordination.  

It’s fine; no one was paying attention to you anyway. That’s just your subconscious keeping you humble. Have a cheeky chuckle and keep walking. 

A planned nap is never as good as a surprise nap. 

It’s Saturday and you have a good friend’s birthday celebration at 7pm and it promises to be a wild one. You had to get up early because you promised another friend you’d do a charity fun run with them. No problem, you’ve set aside a solid chunk of nap-time between 4:30 and 6pm. 

4:30 rolls around, you set an alarm. You’re still wide awake at 4:50.  You’re not even tired now. How is that possible? 

You eventually doze off into that weird half awake, half asleep state. Your alarm goes off. You feel like a groggy mess. 

You long for that warm and fuzzy feeling you get from the deep sleep of an accidental nap. The kind that sneaks up on you at the most inconvenient time, when you think you’ll just close your eyes for ten minutes and wake up two hours later feeling like you’ve just dreamed about all of the answers in all of the universe. 

A planned nap can never feel that good.