A day of minor disasters

I do not believe in superstition. I believe in measurement, documentation, and the fundamental indifference of the universe to human calendar systems.

Today tested this belief.

06:00 - The Alarm

My alarm did not go off. This is because I did not set it. I set it every night. I have set it every night for approximately eleven years. Last night, apparently, I did not.

I woke at 07:14 to Misha sitting on my chest, staring at me from a distance of approximately fifteen centimeters. She had come through the balcony door, which I leave cracked open for ventilation despite the cold, because the alternative is condensation on the windows and condensation interferes with the barometer. Mrs. Kuznetsova’s balcony is 1.2 meters from mine. Misha treats this gap as a suggestion, not an obstacle.

This is not how I prefer to wake up.

“You are not my alarm,” I told her. “You are a neighbor’s cat who has no respect for property boundaries.”

She did not move.

I got up. First measurement of the day: 43 minutes behind schedule. I wrote 07:14 in the log where 06:00 should be. The gap looked accusatory.

08:30 - The Frequency Counter

The frequency counter showed 0.00 Hz.

The power grid had not stopped. I checked. The lights were on. The refrigerator was humming. The kettle worked. The grid was fine.

The frequency counter was not fine.

I opened it. A wire had come loose from the input terminal. Not broken - disconnected, as if it had simply decided, overnight, to stop participating.

Repair time: 12 minutes. Solder iron, steady hand, one drop of solder. The counter resumed showing 50.01 Hz. Normal.

But I had missed the 08:00 reading. A gap in the data. Day 29 of the 30-day study, and I have a gap.

I sent Ruslan a message: “Missed 08:00 reading. Equipment failure. Repaired.”

He replied in four seconds: “What happened?”

I explained.

He replied: “This is why I bring backup equipment.”

He is right. He is also annoying.

10:00 - The Heating

The radiator stopped making noise. Radiators in Soviet-era apartments make noise constantly - clicking, gurgling, the occasional sound of something that might be a hammer or might be the building settling into the earth. When the noise stops, something is wrong.

I touched the radiator. Cold.

The temperature in my apartment at 10:00: 18°C. Acceptable. By 11:00: 16°C. Less acceptable. By 11:30: 15°C. I put on a second sweater.

I called the building management. A woman answered.

“The heating is off in block 4A,” I said.

“We know. Maintenance. It will be restored by 14:00.”

“Do you have a more precise estimate?”

“14:00.”

“That is not precise, that is approximate.”

She hung up.

The heating returned at 13:47. I documented this. Not because it matters, but because documenting things is how I process frustration.

11:15 - Ruslan’s Email

Subject line: “Problem.”

My heart rate increased. I opened the email.

Anatoli,

I have a problem. My sister visited yesterday and reorganized my measurement station. She said it was “messy.” She moved the barometer to a different shelf. She put my notebooks in a drawer. She threw away three calibration certificates because they “looked old.”

The barometer is now next to a window. Direct sunlight exposure. I have relocated it but the last 16 hours of readings may be compromised by thermal interference.

Also she washed the tablecloth that had my measurement schedule written on it.

Also she says hello.

Ruslan

I read this twice. Then I laughed. It was the first time I had laughed today.

I replied:

Ruslan,

Regarding the barometer: 16 hours of potentially compromised data is unfortunate but recoverable. Discard the affected readings and note the gap. We have 28 days of clean data. This is sufficient.

Regarding the calibration certificates: I have copies. I will send them.

Regarding the tablecloth: Buy a notebook.

Regarding your sister: Hello.

Anatoli

12:00 - The Egg

I attempted to boil an egg for lunch. The egg cracked in the water. This is not unusual - eggs crack sometimes. But it was the last egg, and I did not want to go to the shop because it was -11°C outside and my apartment was 15°C inside and the difference between indoors and outdoors was only a matter of degree, literally.

I ate bread and cheese. This is acceptable.

14:00 - The Reading

14:00 measurement. Everything worked. The frequency counter showed 50.02 Hz. The Ambassador showed 1016.8 hPa. The heating had returned. The apartment was warming up. Normal readings on a normal afternoon.

No anomaly. It is Friday, not Tuesday.

I was almost disappointed. Something dramatic would have been appropriate for the thirteenth.

16:00 - Misha

Misha returned at 16:00, via the usual balcony route. I heard the soft thud of her landing, then the click of her claws on the kitchen floor. She walked directly to the three boxes of Morozov’s notebooks, sniffed box two for exactly thirty seconds - I counted - and then sat on box three.

“That contains irreplaceable historical data,” I told her.

She began grooming herself.

I relocated her to the chair. She relocated herself back to the box. We repeated this three times. She won. I put a towel on the box and accepted the situation.

There is now a cat sitting on Viktor Morozov’s personal notebook. Viktor, who drew cats in the margins of his measurement logs, would probably not mind.

19:00 - Assessment

Total incidents today:

Time Incident Severity Resolution
07:14 Alarm failure Minor Woke up anyway (cat)
08:30 Frequency counter wire loose Moderate Soldered, 12 min repair
10:00 Heating failure Moderate Resolved at 13:47
11:15 Ruslan’s sister reorganized his station Moderate 16h data possibly compromised
12:00 Egg cracked Negligible Ate bread
16:00 Cat occupied irreplaceable archives Low Towel deployed

None of these incidents are related to the date. All of them have rational explanations. Equipment fails. Heating systems require maintenance. Sisters reorganize things. Eggs crack.

Friday the thirteenth is a day like any other. The universe does not consult calendars.

But I will set my alarm tonight. Twice.

Current status:

  • Frequency counter: Repaired
  • Heating: Restored
  • Missed readings: 1 (08:00)
  • Eggs remaining: 0
  • Ruslans calibration certificates: Will send copies
  • Ruslan’s tablecloth: Washed, schedule lost
  • Misha’s location: Box 3 (towel deployed)
  • Days until 30-day study ends: 2
  • Superstition status: Still do not believe in it
  • Alarm set for tomorrow: Yes. Twice.

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