Sod’s Law. This evening was one of those times in life where you feel as though all of nature is having a laugh…at your expense. It seemed as though there was some magic in the air; something mildly irritating yet magical floating in the breeze assuring me that anything that could go wrong tonight…just might. Suffice to say amongst other annoyances of the night, I forgot my bag all the way in Lekki, just sitting on a table in the lobby with nary a care in the world. I had to drive back to Lekki, forgetting of course that there is a toll gate between. The rest really is a sad history I don’t even want to suffer myself to relieve so close to midnight…

Today’s activities made me think of something I wrote years ago about a similar series of unfortunate events.

“So 12.39pm finds me NOT in my class, as expected of a respectable College of Law student with classes from 12-2:30, but in the library blogging away with reckless abandon.

The reason for this is not my purported laissez-faire attitude (read: supremely unconcerned response) to things I perceive as uninteresting. The College of Law in its entirety currently ranks in the ‘Supremely Unconcerned’ zone…and scientists confirm its languishing status in said zone for the foreseeable future. I have never been a stickler for daily attendance at school largely because I honestly believe that the amount of money we pay as tuition fees can NOT possibly cover the amount of suffering each disturbingly boring class brings.

One digresses.

As I was saying, from time to time it seems like the universe syncs with all its natural accomplices to frustrate the milk of human kindness out of a person’s spirit. Apparently this is called Sod’s Law. The stated law is defined by the Urban Dictionary as “A humorous axiom stating that anything that CAN go wrong WILL go wrong.”

In London, ‘time to time’ appears to be every other day for most commuters. Take for instance this ordinary day in the life of this ordinary London student. Just imagine this…

Today you have an early, essential lecture. This is of course, the very day that the bus stop in front of your house is ‘Not In Use’ as the bus has to be diverted due to an accident at dawn caused by rival gangs playing Stab-Da-Bredrin on your street. You finally decide to walk to the next available bus stop 15 minutes away on this blisteringly cold morning. Halfway there the heavens open and blessings of the wet variety descend on your newly coiffured hair (which you were rather eager to show off at this morning’s lecture).

You hurriedly sweep your fingers through your heavy bag, frantically searching as you still attempt to walk briskly along, stopping only once to remove your gloves for a more thorough search. Refusing to believe the obvious; that your umbrella is cushioned warmly between your wallet and house keys both still still lying calmly, forgotten on your dresser. Dearly wishing you were in a country littered with street hawkers this morning, with whom you would have conveniently picked a fight to vent your frustration, you instead Bolt to the bus stop like a mature post-graduate student towards a ‘Free Food’ sign.

You obviously miss your bus. Of course. Wait 10 minutes in the vicious, sleeting and perpetual English rain, finally smiling as you see another bus approaching your bus stop. As you look into your bag to find your Oyster, Oga Driver just take style scale pass you, leave you dey gawk!! In English, the one second you put your head down to withdraw your Oyster card, the bus driver assumes you are not waiting for his bus and it sails past on its merry way.

You finally get on a bus, and there is no place to seat, predictably. So you stand there creating your own puddle about the front of the bus, as little children in bright wellies look longingly at the water pooling at your feet even as their mothers give them that ‘Step Into That Water And Feel My Wrath’ look that must be a compulsory elective at Mummy College. You stand for the short ride to the tube station and quickly rush to your platform on arrival…. then watch your train go chugging past IMMEDIATELY you arrive at the platform. Just like it was waiting for that ‘monkey-sucking-a-lemon’ look you now have on your face as you stare at its cheerfully retreating backside.

The next train of course will be delayed because today is the day someone decided to end their life AND inconvenience the world at the same time by jumping in front of a train. Not to make light of suicide, but it seems a rather selfish thing to do. Furthermore, jumping in front of a train seems the very height of self-centredness; think about the driver who might now live with a guilty conscience forever and how about the other commuters who might be scarred by the experience? Although admittedly many Londoners will rather un-remorselessly think ‘good riddance’. But still!

So, the train is delayed and when you do get on a train (FINALLY!), it moves so slowly that you immediately believe that what you have always suspected is indeed true, “Little midgets move trains”. Yes indeed, the train proceeds to move like it is being slowly pushed by a group of elderly midgets. Is this train-crawling limited to the Northern Line only?? Oh Mayor!!!!!

Anyways, you finally get to your destination, in my case School, so late that barging into the class at this point is tantamount to slapping your teacher or twerking in front of the president….or both, p’raps?

So instead you find yourself silently blogging, pretending you are not beyond elated to be given a reprieve from the mindless boredom that is an Accounting Law class.

It’s weird that as I sit writing and reflecting, AI realise that I am lucky to be able to laugh over my frustrations in hindsight. That’s what life is really; many moments of memories, not merely milestones. I want to learn to celebrate living even more. And when times are hard and my fears arrive to remind me of my many limitations, lack and inabilities, I want to be able to ask myself “So What?”

Never underestimate the power of an effectively retorted “So What?”

“Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat.” Fortune Favours the Brave.