Mercury Is Ass Over Teakettle

17 Feb

Everything is all screwed up. Not in any serious way, but just in the kind of way where I’m breaking everything that I’m touching. Today alone, I’ve dropped my phone, fallen on the steps, stained my dress, dumped tomato juice all over the floor, misplaced my wallet, and detonated a nuclear missile. Okay, maybe not the last one, but if I had the kind of job where that were possible, it would’ve happened. In addition to these misfortunes, my car has been acting up in fun new ways and my landlords have been giving tours of my apartment without notifying me. (Oh, hi, prospective tenants. This is totally clean laundry that I’m folding and not just dirty laundry that I transferred from my floor to my bed so you won’t know that I’m a slob.) Also, while I’m confessing my sins, I had questionable motives when I mailed a letter last week. 

This envelope is full of cocaine. How much will that cost to send?

This envelope is full of cocaine. How much will that cost to send?

So what gives? What is causing all of this crap? I’ll tell you what: Mercury. Not the shiny, toxic element found in thermometers. The damn planet. Mercury is in retrograde, which is a thing I only remotely understand and do not care to learn more about because I know enough about it to use it as an excuse, ergo I know enough. In layman’s terms, this means that, from our stupid planet, the equally stupid planet Mercury looks like it’s going backwards because its orbit slows down and yadda yadda yadda science. I think. On earth, this means that everything sucks. Mainly that your stuff breaks and you communicate with people as if through poor Asian translations.

Shut up, moon.

Shut up, moon.

I am not the only one. My housemates are evidence of this. Exhibit A: Housemate 1 lost everything on his external hard drive. Exhibits B and C: As I was writing this post, Housemate 2 appeared in my room with a huge bandaid on his finger, apparently having sliced it open this weekend–when he was home to see his doctor after the accident that totaled his car. I managed to clear both housemates out of my room by reminding them that Mercury is in retrograde. See? Poor communication, Exhibit D. I may only have one friend who’s on board with me, but I don’t care. It’s real, okay? So I’ve got a proposal. Let’s all agree to blame it on Mercury. Floor fell out of your car? Mercury. Tripped and broke your tailbone? Mercury. Called your friend an entitled jerk? Mercury. Felt offended that someone you often ignore didn’t respond to your text? Mercury. Ate that whole jar of peanut butter? Mercury. Slept with your coworker? Mercury. Got a drunken call from your ex? Mercury. Drunkenly called your ex? Mercury. 

I miss you and I can't stop thinking about you. Also, planets.

I miss you and I can’t stop thinking about you. Also, planets.

You see? It really works. It is a catchall explanation for every awful thing that happens as long as those things happen within designated periods of the year. And don’t forget about full moons. You can blame those for minor incidents and so long as you can go for a few weeks at a time without being your usual, bumbling idiot self, you’ll do alright, kid.

There ya go, sitting at your desk, not screwing things up. A+

You may have noticed symptoms of Mercury Retrograde in your own life. Long unheard-from friends call you up to tell you their own tales of woe. You write a blog post, or perhaps a letter of questionable content, without editing. (You want the world to know your thoughts, don’t you? Of course you do.)

So, disregarding the fact that the weirdness in my life started at least two weeks before Mercury fell off the wagon, I’m going to establish some resolutions for myself. Anyone who wishes to join the Cult of Mercury (is that name taken?) can do the same.

5 Simple Retrogresolutions:

-Set a voicemail and autotext response on your phone notifying your contacts that Mercury is in retrograde and that you apologize preemptively for any miscommunications that may occur over the next few weeks.

-Leave anything of value at home. If you have to wipe a thick layer of dust off the things you love when all of this is over, it’s for the best.

-So distraught that you’re about to tell your boss all about your fish’s tragic death by fungus? How ‘bout let’s not do that.

-Be wary of your family.

-And finally: If you have to ask if you should, you shouldn’t.

I do miss my fish, though...

I do miss my fish, though…

If you’re wondering, supposedly there are positive effects, as well. It’s a really cool time to be somber and reflective, if only because that’s the best way to avoid impulsive decisions and other people. You can read more about it elsewhere.

Dear Diary, I have been ignoring calls from my mother for three days, but I am nearly out of food and I fear I may need her assistance. Alternatively, it may be wisest to starve.

Dear Diary, I have been ignoring calls from my mother for three days, but I am nearly out of food and I fear I may need her assistance. Alternatively, it may be wisest to starve.

This period of pure hell (or, okay, minor annoyances) ends on the first of March, but if you ever need to know whether you should be cursing Mercury or not, you can always check the website that is dedicated to exactly that purpose. Let’s have a toast—a toast being one drink, lest you turn up uninvited on someone’s doorstep. Here’s to March 1st. May you make it there in one piece.

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3 Responses to “Mercury Is Ass Over Teakettle”

  1. Emma Eichner February 17, 2014 at 4:52 pm #

    http://youtu.be/nAqvSe1–P0 I wish I had a thoughtful comment, but I blame Mercury.

    • ohblogme February 18, 2014 at 12:10 am #

      Drink every time they mispronounce mercury. You’ll be drunk in under a minute.

  2. procrastinationaddict February 18, 2014 at 3:09 am #

    Today I sent a text to the wrong number in the voice of my cat. It was asking for food because I didn’t want to cook the one egg left in the house and had a headache from the fake-sugar protein shake consumed instead of lunch. I also broke a bowl and almost hit my pilates instructor in the parking lot of the gym.

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