Have you ever pulled a rune? If you’ve never heard of such a thing, here’s the process (at least my process – there are lots of different methods): You hold a bag of stones, each of which is branded with a letter of the runic alphabet, ascribed with a particular meaning. You contemplate a pressing issue in your life, reach into the bag, and pull out a stone. Ideally, it offers some illumination or guidance.

For example, here’s a picture of me holding the “Joy” rune (and demonstrating how I would feel if I ever pulled it legitimately, which I never have) ~

Last week, I had a vague sense of trouble brewing on the horizon, so I thought it might be a good idea to pull runes. After they informed me twice in a row that life was about to suck royally, I decided the runes were mean and stupid, said some nasty things about the universe under my breath, and tied the bag shut.

Despite what the runes had tried to tell me, I got all excited about the prospect of releasing Aret as an audiobook that day. I’d had the audio files for several weeks, listened to all 12 hours of them, gone back and forth with the editors and narrator, and was ready at last. After I spent the morning uploading 67 individual files without a hitch, then clicked “I’m done!” with a triumphant flourish, I received this message:

Congratulations! We will now conduct a brief review to see if you’ve complied with our rules and regulations. This process will take 10-14 business days.

“So, ya know, just put your feet up…”

The serene image featured above is not at all representative of how I felt about this “brief” delay. My feelings were more along the lines of: “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! FTW! And I mean that in the bad way!”

But alas, there was nothing I could do. I glared at the bag of runes, determined that’s what they’d been trying to warn me about, and went to work, where I proceeded to damage a large, expensive piece of equipment beyond any hope of repair. Truly. I punched a hole straight through it. My boss was not amused.

It was such a ridiculous and costly accident that I wondered if I was being karmically punished for locking my baby nephew in a dog crate the previous weekend. (Before you contact the authorities, please know that I only left him in there for a brief period of time, which, as we all know, is 10-14 business days.) (But really it was just long enough to snap a picture.)

Following that debacle, I came home, shot daggers at the rune bag once again, and began packing to head to the coast for a 3-night camping extravaganza. My husband, a couple of friends, and I had booked an amazing beachfront campsite six months before and were beside ourselves with anticipation. We loaded our truck with paddle boards, bikes, coolers, the tent, inflatable mattress, tarps, chairs, etc. etc. (camping is kind of a pain in the ass), drove 5 hours, built up our campsite, ate dinner while discussing what a great time we were going to have, and went to sleep with our heads full of dreams of the next day’s adventures. And when my husband and I awoke the following morning, we both had the stomach flu.

A fierce red dragon to label the campsite’s quarantine

For a few hours, we tried to deny our fates, but when we took an ill-conceived bike trip down the beach, and my poor husband fell off his bike and puked, we knew we were doomed. We spent the remainder of the trip avoiding the sun, hurrying to the bathroom, clutching our midsections, and moaning. (There was a lot of moaning.) Meanwhile, our friends spent their time paddle boarding with a pod of frolicking dolphins. And I was very happy for them. 😐

Well, I have learned my lesson. From now on, whenever I feel concerned that things may take a turn for the worse, I will not consult the runes. In fact, I may never speak to them again. If I find myself wondering what the future has in store, I will consult this pretty butterfly of happiness.

Butterfly of Happiness says things are looking up