It was just another Monday. Mundane Monday. We were working the Designated Writers beat out of the central office when my skin rang.

“I think you have the hives,” it said.

Again? I’d had the hives the week before. Allergic to something. Had gone and got medicines and a shot. I would do the same on this fateful day.

It was not until 11:30 am in Ruston that I ran over something. Went back and checked but couldn’t determine what. When I went back I was walking because it had flattened both passenger side tires.

Two tires is good if it’s a bicycle but if it’s an automobile…

While the tire folk came to the rescue–I am silly and carry just one spare–I walked to the gym to interview the back-to-back players of the year, softball, in Conference USA. They were both on a podcast with me. Delightful people. Squeezing this in for the fans on the eve of their Regional appearance in Baton Rouge. But six minutes in to what would have been a 12-minute podcast, my “device” told me it was full. The voice bars kept jumping so i figured it was still recording.

Figured wrong.

There was six minutes of who fans wanted to hear talking, then there was me explaining the rest of what they said — sigh… — although not as eloquently nor as precisely.

Went to get my hives shot and now a month’s-worth of medicine.

Then to get my car.

It would not have been a good day for me to go to the boats. Bad luck. Plus, I might have jumped.

And PS, no matter how bad it gets, don’t jump. The wind is bound to change. I went all though the next day and didn’t even have one single flat.

-30-