The Other Shoe

You ever get the feeling that the Universe is just biding its time before it puts the screws to you? I don't usually, but for the past few days...
   See, nothing odd has happened to me since last Monday.
   Others might count that as a blessing, but weird crap happens to me all the time. ALL THE TIME. Every day. People try to sell me stuff, crazy people think I'm related to them, birds follow me, machines stop working when I go by or ones that have stopped start working again, I overhear terrible conversations, and on and on and on. It's just something I've gotten used to, something I expect, almost something that defines me.
   And now it's stopped.
   You remember when Popeye would finally have his fill of Bluto, he'd eat his spinach, and then he'd wind up his forearm to make sure he got a really solid hit? I got a feeling that I'm Bluto, and the Universe is Popeye winding up for the twisker sock. If I suddenly dissolve in shower of light, or get kidnapped by Mole People, or suddenly become King of Prussia, don't say I didn't warn you.