It’s true what everybody says: Bad things really do come in threes

I once read an ABC News article called “Why Do We Believe That Catastrophes Come in Threes?” The story suggested many reasons to explain our strange affinity for patterns: three is the first odd prime number, jokes are usually set up with three people in them, the trinity is all over various religions …. The potential explanations go on and on.

When I first read that article, I scoffed at it. I’ve always thought that was a stupid idea; bad stuff doesn’t come in threes. It just comes, and all we can do is suck it up and deal.

After this weekend, however, my opinion has changed. Drastically. It all started on Thursday night…

I was hanging out in my friend’s dorm room at Newman Hall. There were about 10 of us, laughing and talking and getting to know each other. I had my new pink camera with me, so I whipped it out, and we took some cheesy pictures. A little after midnight, I decided it was time to head back to good ol’ Van Doren Hall. That was when I realized that my camera was gone.

The next day my friend Mary and I conducted a search effort throughout Newman. We wrote on dry-erase boards and knocked on doors in a desperate attempt to recover my brand-new camera. Needless to say, we never found it.

Camera: stolen. That was Bad Thing No. 1.

I was pissed about the camera and needed to let off some steam, so I hit up the Activities and Recreation Center later that weekend. Somehow, on my way home, I managed to lose my Apple earphones. I wasn’t sure if I dropped them or left them plugged into the stationary bike, but I did know one thing: My earphones were gone. That was Bad Thing No. 2.

Depressed. That’s how I felt void of my camera and earphones. I couldn’t bear to possibly lose anything else. Thankfully, I didn’t lose another possession — I broke one instead.

My roomie and I deemed this past Monday “Cleaning Day.” We brought all of our dirty dishes to the bathroom and did our best to scrub away the yuck. Satisfied with my clean dishes, I strutted out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Then … CRASH! My glass coffee pot hit the floor and shattered into a million tiny pieces. Girls on my floor opened their doors and gasped. “Melanie, do you need help? What happened? Here, let me get you a broom!”

As we cleaned up my mistake, I had a glum realization: the broken coffee pot was Bad Thing No. 3. I went back to my room and sat down at my desk to write myself a “To Buy” list on a pink Post-it. A camera, earphones and a new coffee pot.

I banged my head against my desk and sighed dramatically.

“Well,” I said to Katherine, my roomie, “I guess bad things really do come in threes.”

Thankfully, that was the end of the catastrophes, because Monday wasn’t just any Monday — it was Bid Day.

And when I opened up my bid and read the words “Chi Omega,” I completely forgot about my series of unfortunate events.

I don’t have a camera, earphones or a coffee pot. But so what? I’m a Chi O, baby!

Maybe good things come in threes, too. Good Thing No. 1: Chi O. Good Thing No. 2: Chi O. Good Thing No. 3: Chi O.

Yep, good things definitely come in threes.