Some days there’s nothing on the schedule. No grand plans, just a day to let happen. Maybe you’ll catch that one football game, or meet up with mates, or nod along at that one church service. Nothing is decided. You’re sipping your favourite beer, letting the hours go by. Productivity is optional. Surprises are not.

And then comes the fuckening. The phone jolts you out of it. You’re expecting a friendly voice, but instead there are sirens in the background and someone with a trained, careful voice asking you to help identify a body. Just like that, you’re not sipping beer anymore. Every car owner knows the feeling too, how the engine only starts making expensive noises right after payday. Or you’re waiting for the steak in the oven when the new phone slips out of your hand and lands face down. Or you’re walking home, almost there, and the plastic bag you’ve carried the whole way finally gives in and the mayonnaise is all over the tarmac. In your head you can almost hear the devils laughing, “Who’s having the salad now?”

Some of these moments just spoil your mood. Others bend your whole reality. But they all point at the same thing: how random life is. How a near-perfect day can turn in a second into something else entirely. Someone is walking right in front of you one minute and gets run over the next. You’re still hoping they’ll pull through, still stuck on the fact that you were talking to them moments ago, when you get the news that they’re gone. You’re minding your business, finally warming up to the new track, when bang, someone smashes into you from behind. In one moment you go from trying to get to work early to looking for the nearest police station.

We are pattern-seeking people. We go through life looking for the reason, the meaning behind things. So we ask: should I have taken the other road? Left a bit later? Bought the one in the plastic container? You can run the what-ifs all day, but there’s no guarantee any of it would have changed anything.

Then there are the big accidents, the ones that really knock you sideways. The temptation is to blame it on karma, or a curse, or someone out to get you. In some Christian circles they’ll give you the look and ask, “Are you tithing consistently?” I don’t doubt there’s a spiritual side to things. But here’s my question: why would anyone spend that much energy trying to ruin you? Are you the main character of their whole life? Isn’t it a bit proud to think you’re so important that an entire clan has nothing better to do than plot against your children?

Picture that clan gathered around a pot, planning your downfall. “Let’s mess with their Wi-Fi. And spill coffee on their white shirt.” Come on. And while we’re at it, how many things have actually gone your way? Why do we expect to win every time? Maybe losing every now and then is just life reminding you that humility suits you.

Accidents don’t come with a plan. Sometimes you trip over your own shoelaces. Sometimes life pulls the rug. And we always want an explanation. But here’s what I’ve learned: take the Ls. Take them like a champ. You don’t always need to make sense of them. Maybe life isn’t a battlefield. Maybe it’s just unpredictable, and that’s it.

So chin up. Maybe no one is testing you. Maybe things just happen, and this time you were the one they happened to. Next time you spill mayo on the tarmac, laugh at it. It’s not a curse. And when life throws you a curveball, catch it if you can, and if you can’t, at least laugh. Because a lot of it really is just chance, and that’s what keeps us all guessing.