Murphy's Law

 Saturday Centus time my peeps.  No, not those gross wanna-be-marshmallow things, you, my people.  Jenny is a snot.  I'm just putting that out there.  She must have been a teacher in a previous life, because she loves to test us.  And this week, she did. Instead of a word prompt, she gave us a picture.  Are you ready for this.  It's a doosey. 

I bring you, in all it's glory, my story of the week.

It was the Friday before Easter. As I was finishing up a report that was due to my boss, I glanced up in time to see the elevator door slide open.

I looked around wondering who the lucky recipient was of a singing telegram. As the performer started getting closer, I froze. I knew that man. He was my next door neighbor. I had heard that he was between jobs at the moment.

Please, oh please, don’t let him see me. No such luck. He stopped in front of my desk and started his serenade. Murphy’s Law rides again.

Thanks Jenny.  You have once again made me go to a place that just scared the bunny poops out of me.