Ever have a day that was so messed up that you wonder what kinds of karmic misdeeds you did to piss off the universe so much? A day when you were already feeling frayed, frazzled, and funky (not the good kind either)?

That was my yesterday.

First, my iphone did a swan dive into a nice wet, round porcelain recepticle. At my work. Yes, I tried to save it. Reached in, fished it out and shook the toilet water out of it. Used air in a can on it.

It was alive long enough for me to back it up to my computer, then it started randomly calling people (hi Claire!) and finally died. Hopefully Gazelle will give me $20 for it since that’s the going rate for a non-working iPhone. It tried to turn on one more time last night and then promptly gave up.

Now you’re sufficiently grossed out (sorry, I wasn’t going to try to flush it down and there was no other way to handle the situation without leaving it in the bowl longer than 30 seconds), I need to tell you the rest of the story.

It may be hard to believe, but my day got worse.

Yes, worse than the very nice Genius with the Italian accent at the Apple Store telling me the price tag of my new phone which made me gasp. It was first new iPhone I’ve had in ages. Usually I keep Bruce’s cast offs then use them until the battery no longer charges.

Truth be told, my iPhone was almost ready for replacement since I was having to have a charger handy at all times and recharge ½ way through the work day. Besides the obvious price tag sticker shock, the timing was really the problem. You see, I’m going on a business trip Wednesday morning. Going at lunch on Tuesday wasn’t going to happen since I already had a meeting scheduled. Then last night was Zumba and in order to get over to the Apple Store and get a new phone, I had to skip it. Grrr. I was already going to miss my booty shaking and sweating on Wednesday. Grrr.

As I headed down the highway from the office towards the Apple Store closest to my house, I noticed that my tire pressure light suddenly came on. Thinking one of my tires might be a little low, I got off at my usual exit and went to the first gas station for air. No luck on the air machine, but there was another gas station a few blocks away and I knew they had a machine.

When I got out of the car, I checked the usual suspects: my front tires. In the past that’s where the problem was. Then I saw my back passenger tire rapidly deflating.

UGH! Close to home. No phone. A flat tire with a big hunk of metal embedded right in the middle of the treads. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. And I hadn’t changed a tire in years. With the clock ticking and the Apple Store hours rapidly evaporating, I started unpacking the trunk. I also grabbed the manual since I didn’t want to screw anything up.

As I was sizing up the situation (and trying not to cry in frustration), a man called out to me and asked if I needed help. I didn’t want to bother him or anyone and said that I was ok. That’s when he insisted on helping. He wasn’t from around here, but he was in the area helping out on a job.

Neither he nor I could speak the other’s language very well, but we figured out between the two of us how to use the very new (and super stiff) tire jack and get the spare tire on. It probably took him a lot less time than it would have taken me since he was much stronger than I am. He was also probably much younger that I am.

Nice Man also told me it wasn’t proper for me to change the tire so that’s why he was helping. Maybe I reminded him a little of his mother or a favorite aunt.

While this was all happening, several more nice men stopped to ask if I needed help. Some were dressed for various trades, some were in various renditions of corporate business wear. One tradesman looking guy had a big old red and white pit bull in the back of his truck and seemed shocked when I said “I’m good, but I love your dog.”

When Nice Man was finished changing the tire and the spare was on, I thanked him profusely and asked if I could pay him something for his help. He said no and said that he was just doing what he was supposed to do. A good deed.

I thanked him over and over and probably made him a little embarrassed with my thank yous in the gas station parking lot. He was still in his car when I drove off, maybe waiting for a friend who worked at the gas station to finish his shift. And when I got home, Bruce drove me to the Apple Store.

While I was in the moment, it may have felt like the worse day ever, but in hindsight, perhaps it was one of the best.

First, it reaffirmed my belief in the power of the kindness of strangers.

Second, it helped to remind me that there is hope for the people of this country and not everyone is an angry, hateful person, despite what the news is portraying. There are nice people all around us, even at the corner gas station. All you have to do is listen.