Biorhythms Messed Up

Do you believe in biorhythms? I remember when they were the "in" thing, and with my friend Eva , after a distressing day teaching school, we would go to Altas Bates Hospital in Berkeley, where in the basement they had a biorhythms machine the public could use. One could punch in their birthday and like a horoscope out would come one's predictions for that day. It also seemed to confirm our worst suspicions for our bad luck that day.  Then we would go out for frozen yogurt, which was always soothing.
Yesterday my biorhythms must have been bad, for no sooner had I entered the hiway 12 traffic heading to my personal trainer appointment than I saw a large flying object to my right heading directly for my car. No, it was not a drone. It was probably a turkey or a turkey vulture, although it had the coloring of a red tail hawk. WHAM it smacked into my car roof, like a hunk of concrete. There was no safe way to stop, so feathers flying I kept on to my destination, quite shaken up. "RIP, my feathered friend. "
Upon arriving at my destination I misjudged the distance for parallel parking, and banged into the front bumper of a new model blue truck. Was this my retribution for ending the life of a feathered friend? The kindly disabled owner did not admonish me. He now has white paint on his dented bumper and I have royal blue scratches on the right side of my Malibu, and we.ll see how much the charges are before I decide to let insurance handle it. Oh yes, I also have talon marks on the roof of my car. I hope today will be a more serene one. I'm off to paint California poppies, which should also be calming to my slightly shattered nerves. The poppies near my house are exploding right now. More gorgeous than any fireworks display.