Isn't it ironic?

This isn't going to be bold and deep, but it is what it is. Sometimes life isn't bold and deep.

Here's what life is, and follow me here, this metaphor is going to be weak:

Life is having a phone. One you like, with which you are perfectly happy. All contacts in place. That goes sailing into a mug of hot chocolate.
So you go back to an old phone. That you liked. And you adjust. Get new contacts, get things in place. But just as you are, it falls of a shelf.
Stranded.
So you get a new one. And learn how to work its stupid backwards buttons, and get the contacts sorted out. And just as you're getting comfortable, right after a BIG turning point in your life...you turn it off. And, at the most critical moment, it won't turn back on again. Or really...it WILL turn back on again, but all it will do is play the opening music in a loop.

(I didn't even THROW it this time. It's all by itself.)

But here's life, right here: You've end up back with the original phone. In which you just deleted all the contacts and all the memories. 4. days. before.
With a voicemail.
And 5 text messages with no way to fix what they've thought.

And life is:

Planning a trip to Normal, Illinois. Only to have a broken down car and spend 7 hours in a village tow shop with a cat. Named Lucky.

Full circle, eh?

This isn't a pity party. I just can't shake the feeling that these things mean something more than just a cat and a phone. And I'm treading water trying to figure out some kind of deep meaning or lesson or reason WHY life works this--because they're just too perfectly disasterous to be anything but significant, right?
Maybe I can't know...maybe we can't know? Maybe it'll reveal itself somewhere down the road and all I can do is keep living until I feel that final click when everything snaps into place and it all makes sense and I realize it's all for a reason. I can't know.

I'm going under.
Drowning in Irony.