My mom bought a pomegranate over the weekend. Just one, and it almost looked like a tomato on the counter. I was home alone today (listening to the RENT soundtrack all the way through for the first time in six or eight years… Incidentally, today I remembered all my old away messages from AIM) and come snack time I remembered the pomegranate. It looked so nice, and I prepared my camera so I could take artsy pictures of the translucent arils. I looked up a video on how to open a pomegranate properly, got out my knife, and made the first cut.
And instead of those bright red seeds, I saw a mass of brown goop. I kept cutting, hoping that maybe some arils were buried like gems among indistinguishable brown sludge. I did find a few, but they were so outnumbered by their mushy siblings that I didn’t touch them. But I took a picture anyway, because that’s a lesson I learned this weekend: Shit happens. All you can do is react to it.
I had the weekend off work, so I planned a solo drive down to Columbus to visit my cousin at OSU. The drive started off pretty well; I listened to some good CDs I found in my dad’s car, but I also saw a deer completely torn apart in the left lane on the highway. (It’s always surprising to see such gore firsthand. Our lives are so sterile.)
But then as I got off the highway and drove to my cousin’s dorm, the car broke down. To make a long story short, I ended up spending the day with relatives, getting the car towed and off to a mechanic. It was stressful, but… it could have been worse. I was lucky to have family to help me with the car, shelter me, and to have a drink with afterward. When I finally made it back home, I apologized to my dad for causing such an inconvenience. He shrugged. “Shit happens,” he said. “You just have to deal with it and move on.”
So here I am, moving on. A rotten piece of fruit doesn’t hasn’t ruined my plans; I still took an artsy picture and posted it to my blog.