I think we’ve all been there. Lots of small things are going wrong and then you knock your funny bone on the corner of the table and suddenly you’re sure that the world is collapsing around your ears. Personally, I prefer things to go spectacularly wrong because then, when it’s all said and done, you can sit back, down a beer (or two or three depending) and be thankful that you’re still alive and have all your extremities more or less intact. Plus, you get a great story (or, hypothetically, a blog post). Everyone loves reading about the narrowly averted disaster–the almost plane crash, for example, or the time the photocopy machine burst into flames at the worst possible moment.

However, no one likes reading about the time you poured sour milk into your coffee and lost your keys ALL IN THE SAME MORNING, which makes these kinds of problems even more upsetting. When something really minor goes wrong and I feel shitty about it, I find myself thinking “wow, it’s really lame that you feel shitty about this, no one is going to feel the least bit sorry for you” and then I feel even shittier. It’s a positive feedback loop of doom. Consequently, I have laughed off broken bones but dissolved into total hysterics over a broken spoon.

Here I am, with my broken spoon in Puerto Montt, Chile, after I got my shit together and stopped bawling (like, two days after breaking the spoon):

Basically, the past four days have been full of minor-in-the-whole-scheme-of-things problems and they are adding up and making me all GRRRRR. So, partially for your entertainment and partially for cathartic purposes, I’ve compiled a list.

SYD’S BIG BAD LIST OF SLIGHTLY BAD THINGS

• I stalled the car just when I thought I was getting the hang of driving stick with my left hand.
• It rained.
• I bought a new brand of coffee and it tasted like dish detergent.
• We were supposed to go swimming with dolphins but our tour was cancelled due to inclement weather. (Editor’s note: the author realizes how ridiculous it sounds to be complaining about this and hopes you forgive her.)
• We didn’t know above tour was canceled and thus got up at 6am for no reason.
• On multiple occasions, I failed to eat at appropriate times and became “hangry.”
• It rained more.
• It hailed and some of it got into our tent.
• I shut the back door of the car and dumped water all over myself and my only pair of pants.
• Every piece of warm clothing I owned became either damp or completely sopping.
• It suddenly became winter.
• We ate cold oatmeal for breakfast five days in a row.

Eating cold oatmeal in the shelter of some bushes. My life is awesome.

• The sun disappeared, presumably for the rest of eternity (or at least the rest of the week).
• Our ferry to the North Island was delayed due to high winds.
• Our ferry to the North Island proceeded in spite of high winds and forty-foot swells.
• I vomited in front of 40 strangers and then spent the rest of the trip sitting on the deck in sub-freezing temperatures.
• It continued to rain in Wellington and we couldn’t afford to stay in a hostel because hostels in New Zealand are actually hotels in disguise and that is super annoying because we both could really have used a hot shower.
• My DSLR stopped working and apparently needs to be sent back to Canon for repairs and unfortunately that takes over a month in New Zealand so I will have to spend fuck-knows-how-much to ship it back to the states.
• I spent 300 dollars on a waterproof point and shoot camera because a) the rain doesn’t seem like it is ever going to stop and b) I’m a blogger so I need a camera but did I mention I am feeling GRRRRRRR.
• The gate to our free campground was locked at 8 pm and we arrived at 8:20 so we had to drag our sleeping bags and pads and tent over a fence in the dark and it was, you guessed it, POURING.
• We left the lights on in our car for FIVE MINUTES and got yet another “flat battery.”
• We tried to eat lunch in a picnic shelter but the rain was going sideways so we had to bail to the nearest available shelter, which happened to be a public toilet. (And if eating lunch in a park bathroom isn’t hitting rock bottom, I don’t know what is.)

Here is Macky making a sandwich in the toilet, and also, incidentally my first photo with the new camera. Thank goodness I got the waterproof version, RIGHT?!?!

So, there you go. That was my week. Not nearly as entertaining as a proper disaster, but realistically, most of the problems we face as long-term travelers are not proper disasters and they make lousy stories and even worse blog posts (forgive me for this one, okay?). Most of these problems are small and annoying and we feel bad complaining about them because we’re supposed to be living the life, right? And we ARE living the life–sometimes it just bears an annoying resemblance to normal life.

And it’s always a learning experience…

For example, I learned how to roll start a car and that I really shouldn’t waste nine dollars on homeopathic seasickness medicine and also that I must be dating the nicest man on earth because anyone else would have strangled me in my sleep three days ago and made it look like an accident. And, also on the bright side, I thought of a great joke while barfing my guts out on the ferry. It goes like this:

Q: “What did the seasick sailor say when asked how he was doing?”
A: “Knot swell.”

And now things are starting to look up–just as we were finishing our toilet lunch, a friend texted us to say he was home from work early because of the weather and he thought maybe we would want to come over and shower and do our laundry and, hey, why not just join them for dinner and sleep on their couch, because gee, you guys look pathetic. And for the record, this friend is getting married in six days and is still willing to accept unexpected and decidedly soggy guests. Have I mentioned that people are awesome?

How do you deal when things start to go wrong during long-term travel? Obviously, I need your suggestions!