Like casting pennies into a wishing well...

Today, I had to fire our broker.

Though she was a nice woman, and had driven us all over St. Petersburg last Sunday, she just wasn't getting the job done. When I fired her, she cried, and it made me feel terribly guilty. I had to step out of the office for a moment and remind myself why I had to fire her; how buying a home is one of the most important decisions of one's life and not the sort of transaction left to someone who is "almost good enough."

Still, my karma felt low. Since I re-injured my knee earlier this week, I've felt a bit unlucky. After the spectacle the broker put on over the phone, I had bad feelings swarming around me.

A few minutes later, I logged off my computer, hopped in my car, and drove off to pick up Reilly at daycare. I had made it about a mile when I realized that I had a flat tire.

I had a flat tire in one of the worst neighborhoods in Tampa. To whit: a homeless man "helped" me change my tire. In between cursing and gasping from the pain of my knee, I couldn't help but think of the broker, who was probably at that moment wishing something bad would happen to me, something that would help her get even. I almost called her to let her know that her wish had come true.