So, we go out of town for the weekend...

...and I get the flu.

What's that about?

The students were overpowered with the foulness of coughing and sickness, and even some of the coworkers were down-and-out, but to actually get sick on the way to a weekend getaway? I knew it was going to happen. In the back of my mind, where all that Murphy's Law is kept (also, my worst case scenario fears), I just knew it was going to happen. I thought, "watch me get sick in Louisville."

Steph yells at me when I do this. I will say something negative, like, "watch it rain on us later," and then it'll rain on us later and she'll go, "why did you say that?!" Apparently, it's this amazing psychic ability I have.

I think, therefore I am.

I thought about being sick this weekend, and I became sick. It's not that I wanted to be sick. I just knew the bad luck of the situation would hit me like bird poop on a windshield.

Which actually happened as we crossed the river from Indiana into Kentucky. It was big and black and all it did was smear.